On Writing: Fear of Not Being the Best

Photo by Lina Kivaka on Pexels.com Along with freezing temperatures and delayed school starts, March winds always blow in allergies. I don't know what exactly I'm allergic to, but whenever the weather changes here in Tennessee, I find myself surrounded by a pile of tissues, bereft of the will to leave the couch. Thus, I've… Continue reading On Writing: Fear of Not Being the Best

On Writing: What You Say and Do Matters

Photo by Pranidchakan Boonrom on Pexels.com I've been a regular blood donor since 2016, the year after my stepfather died. During his fight with cancer, he needed several transfusions, so by donating I feel I am paying forward the generosity of his donors. Donating blood really doesn't take much effort, and after you've done it… Continue reading On Writing: What You Say and Do Matters

How I Met My Husband

Photo by Vlad Cheu021ban on Pexels.com Let me tell you a story. It starts 16 years ago with a turtle and a trip to Target. I went to college 100% on student loans. Even my apartment rent, food, and utilities were paid for through loans. So when I got my check at the beginning of… Continue reading How I Met My Husband

Cleaning Day

Photo by cottonbro on Pexels.com Saturday mornings in my house mean one thing: Cleaning Day has begun. I have kids and cats, so every day is Cleaning Day to some extent, but Saturdays are for getting into the corners, behind the furniture, moving appliances, on my hands and knees, Don't-Bother-Me-Can't-You-See-I'm-Busy-If-You-Can't-Find-Something-To-Do-So-Help-Me-You-Can-Get-Down-Here-With-Me, THAT kind of cleaning. My favorite part… Continue reading Cleaning Day

Memories of a Boy Named Greg

Photo by Pexels User on Pexels.com During my semester of student teaching, I had several students who caused me more than a small amount of stress. There was Heather, who absolutely hated everything about me and would never do anything I asked her to do. John, who would deliberately get into arguments with other students… Continue reading Memories of a Boy Named Greg


What red can do for you. If all you’ve ever worn is hoodies, it’s time to get yourself a nice, wool coat with strong shoulders.

Just Taking Notes

I think we were all kind of hoping for a fresh start in 2021. But, uh…that certainly didn’t happen, huh? I think with COVID numbers soaring, unemployment numbers continuing to look pretty bad, and an attempted coup on our government, we’re all feeling a little unmotivated, worried, and ready for a change. Living in DC, especially, I have been anxiety spiraling pretty regularly, so needless to say, not a whole lot of writing has been happening over here. However, I recently connected with a virtual writing group for a little inspiration, and we’re giving each other writing prompts, which has already been extremely helpful. Today’s post is inspired by such a prompt.

Photo byDaria ShevtsovafromPexels

When I think of the color red, I think of special occasions. More specifically, I think of getting dressed up. I like fashion and beauty, but I can’t say they’re really driving…

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Why I Hate My Dog

I came across Richard Gilbert while researching the difference between personal essay and memoir (here: http://richardgilbert.me/memoir-or-personal-essay-drawing-distinctions-is-vexing-in-the-varied-creative-nonfiction-genre/). The fantastic title of this article caught my attention, so of course I had to read it as a way of trying to justify to myself (and my kids) why we’re not getting a dog this year. But all it did was make me want to rush out to the local animal shelter and bring home a dog TODAY.


Richard Gilbert | Longreads | July 2016 | 18 minutes (4,584 words)

Belle Krendl, “our” dog but really mine, is a furtive, ragtag creature. She suffers in comparison to our prior dogs—and to most we’ve known. In fact, she suffers in comparison to any pet we’ve ever owned, including jumpy, escape-prone gerbils; a pert exotic lizard that refused to eat; cannibalistic chickens that stared with malice in their soulless green eyes; and a sweet, dumb, tailless black cat named Tao who spent his life staring into space with huge yellow eyes—but once, in a blur, grabbed and gulped down a gerbil our daughter dangled before him by way of introduction.

A Jack Russell terrier, or maybe a Jack cross, Belle Krendl is covered in whorls of stiff white hair. Bristly brows and white lashes accent her black eyes, as do her lower eyelids, a disconcerting garish pink. In the house…

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