gratitude
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Guest Post: Kay Ellington, Author of Paragraph Ranch
Happy Groundhog’s Day! Groundhog’s Day has always been one of my favorite holidays. I know, it’s not really what you consider a holiday. You don’t even get the day off from work or school. As a gardener, I find winters to be challenging, living on the plains of West Texas. The short days. The lack of warmth and sunshine. The demise of the perennials. Perusing seed catalogs only goes But Groundhog’s Day—whether the little furry fellow (are they always male?) sees his shadow or not– kicks off the beginning of the end of the dormant season for people and plants. After November and December rife with holidays and festivities, in…
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Hope and A Full-length Mirror | Guest Post by Tess Thompson
I have a guest blogger today, the lovely and talented author Tess Thompson, whose voice is remarkably like mine — honest, quirky, funny, and smart. I like her a lot. I hope you will, too. — jpt “Hope” is the thing with feathers – That perches in the soul – And sings the tune without the words – And never stops – at all -“ — Emily Dickinson Tuesday afternoon I dress for a coffee date with a man. It’s a first date, if you can call it that, as I’ve never met him in person, only exchanged emails. His email was sweet and well-written – I won’t go into the…
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Writer as Middle Child: It’s a Thing.
My friend Jack Mingo says that writers are middle children who just want to speak uninterrupted. He may be right. I’m a middle child. Can’t you tell? I’m one of five children. Our mom developed a color code to keep us organized, and that was the color of your beach towel, your swim bag, your cardigan, your home-sewn dress. My elder sister was blue; my younger sister was purple. I was red. (I still am.) My brothers were both green, or else one was green and one was light blue. But my mom had it down, and that’s all that mattered. We lived in three- and four-bedroom homes, and if…
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The Longest Night
I love Christmas. I love the smell of pine needles, cinnamon, cookies baking. I love bright lights on Christmas trees. Candles. Some Christmas music (some I hate, but that’s because it’s terrible music, not because it’s Christmas). We’re in that strange in-between era now when the kids are adults, but none has yet married. There are no grandbabies. So there’s no Santa. No cookies and a carrot left out. We still do stockings, but we also play Cards Against Humanities later in the day, and believe me, that is a game that will put you on the naughty list immediately. Sometimes we do Santa gifts (unwrapped) and sometimes not. It…
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Poet Laureate!
Yes, I was chosen to be Alameda’s Poet Laureate in a ceremony at City Hall on September 16. On television and before a full chamber, I read a poem about Alameda, called “Home at the Edge of the World,” the title a nod to one of my mentors, Michael Cunningham (The Hours), and the content a personal and historical journey through Alameda. The poem will be published in the October issue of Alameda Magazine. You can also hear me read it here on Voqel. And with the change of seasons, my calendar is full. I spent September attending as many open mics and writing workshops as possible. I read several…
