Before I began writing seriously, I saw it as a singular pursuit. I imagined a disheveled person at a desk in a windowless room with a half-drunk cup of cold coffee and maybe a sleeping dog. I don’t know why the writer in my mind was unkempt, perhaps because I imagined them to be so… Read More Critique Partners: For Writing and Living
Yesterday, it was 28° F. That was an improvement over the 10 days of rain preceding it. A decade ago, I wouldn’t have ridden outside at that temperature. I made that rule in the name of protecting my precious knees. I had so many rules: dry roads, no rain (or ice or snow or sleet… Read More Acceptance or Endurance? It matters.
Winter is waning. As I was waiting for my two Boxers to sniff every blade of grass in the back yard the other day, I took one look at my garden and started reviewing the offspring of all of my friends in hopes that one was the mother of a child with a penchant for… Read More My life is a garden, and it needs weeding.
Thursday night I got the game ball. It felt so great! In my dubious athletic career, I never got the game ball. I have thrown a game ball. I have caught a game ball- once, in the back of the head. I have dribbled a game ball, shot a game ball, even caught a game… Read More The Appreciation Equation (You might want to sit down. Turns out, it’s exponential.)
I just turned 54. Normally I like to throw myself a big party. I like birthday parties. I like a house full of people I love- laughing, eating and talking. I think we should celebrate life every chance we get. But this year has been a quiet birthday. There is just so much going on at… Read More The thought absolutely counts. In fact, it might be the only thing that really does.
I was staring out the dusty screen door of our canary-yellow, cookie-cutter rambler when I first realized he had superpowers. My bangs glanced off the cheap metal door as I followed his deliberate movements back and forth across the patio. My mother hooked me around the waist, dragging me back as she slammed the glass slider closed, “Come away… Read More The House That Built Me
I have a confession to make. I have a box in my garage that I take out every time I am wondering about whether I am making a difference in this world. It’s not full of trophies. There are no framed awards in the box. Nothing is engraved or embossed. It is a box of… Read More Have You Thanked a Teacher Lately?
Catherine Matthews 