The other night when I was supposed to be baking a birthday cake, I found myself under a dead tree on one of the town’s alleys instead, picking up a twisted branch as thick as my wrists. It fanned out at all the right angles, looking like a set of antlers. Perfect decor for our Indian Camp, I thought. My great-grandmother’s tribe, the Miami, hasn’t been recognized by the federal government since 1897, but papers or no papers, if the legend is right, we’ve got roots in a people who knew the woods like the back of their hand.
So, I walked around some other dead branches and heaved the big antlers over my shoulder to head toward home. Continue reading →
One morning a few months ago, while I snuck upstairs for a quick shower, my three year old did a little sneaking of her own. By the time I came down, she had located my iPad in my office, seated herself on the couch, opened to the Doodle app and turned on the blues station on my Pandora radio without me teaching her how to do any of it. Continue reading →
This summer, I was ready to swear off all social media. The net just wasn’t working for me. It seemed like every time I’d step into the avenues that were supposed to be connecting people, I’d instead find people putting themselves on pedestals, sacrificing family values to get followers and turning sacred things into marketplace currency, like the moneychangers in the Temple. So, when some friends said their cabin was available for the weekend AND that the cell reception was unreliable, we opened our hands for the key. Continue reading →
As I celebrate my 10th anniversary with my husband today, I’m sharing a Literary Date based on Charlotte’s Web. He and I have been reading some classics aloud lately, and the time spent in a book (and away from our computer, TV and smart phones) and experiencing its themes on a date has been invigorating for our relationship. I plan to put together more Literary Date posts based around other books in the months to come, so stay tuned.
Eleven years ago, this time of year, my future husband and I came out from a little brick building on the edge of the grounds, where contestants glistened under a spotlight hoping for ribbons and crowns, for someone to call them “Sweetheart” there in the sweetcorn capital of the world. Craig’s little sister was one of them. It stinks to have a brother in politics, because you get questions about bioterrorism instead of ones about your platform.
No matter who won the Miss Sweetheart title that night, I knew he was sweet on me. He wore his starched white dress shirt and I wore a dress. Crunching my flats over dry grass on the path to the midway, my arm barely brushing against his, I was like Fern at the fair. Continue reading →