We spent some time on Saturday throwing axes at the Christmas market. It’s not what you think. Or maybe it is. On Saturday, I’m doing some writing in bed (that happens now), and we’re deciding if we want to get festive. No, really. ‘We should go out. Let’s go out.’ We didn’t go out. We made pancakes, or Neil did. ‘Do we eat breakfast at night now?’ asks Isla. ‘No, it’s just really dark out in the mornings these days.’…
Well, my husband. Hi. I’ve had to spend some time this month writing about the physical side of my disability. I usually don’t focus on what I can’t do, and I usually don’t care. But I feel like I’ve been justifying my life and the help I need and now I’m actually exhausted. Maybe that’s because I wake up and feel I haven’t slept. Maybe that’s because I couldn’t get out of bed this morning. No, literally. There was my…
I’m sitting here at my sliver of kitchen table surrounded by books and drawings and wilted flowers. More on my writing environment is over here. I know I haven’t written in a week. Yesterday it took 8 hours to upload my first Q and A video. The Gin & Lemonade trailer is here: Before I edited the trailer I was Laura from German Lemonade. Hi. (If real captions don’t appear automatically, hit cc on bottom right of screen.) After the…
You guys, time is weird. I miss a lot of major news stories. They happen overnight, and I’m sleeping. Or trying to. This morning in the midst of getting Isla ready for school, I’m scrolling through Facebook. I see the same story a few times, with different commentaries. I told you time is weird. A teacher has gone viral for carrying a wheelchair-using student on his back during a field trip. Oh, boy. We’ve got the inspiration porn out there…
A few years before I met my husband, I wrote A LIST. On it, I noted all of the things I was looking for in a partner, namely my forever partner. I folded up the three pages, put them at the back of my journal. Planned to offer the list to the Moon, and see what happened. Real talk, I ended up offering the list to my washing machine first, transferred from my journal to a sweater with pockets. The…
