Gathering Rosebuds
I’ve decided to practice what I teach (<–nope, not a typo). When I teach writing, I harp endlessly on the need to write often, to keep the muscle memory of writing flexed and supple. It’s like playing an instrument, I say, or practicing a sport. That’s why at the beginning of each class I provide…
This Old Grey Goose is Kind of a Bitch
So I was standing outside a groovy record shop in the college city of Eugene, OR one day last week. I was waiting for my husband, who could have happily been in the store for hours, but I was outside (because small store, Covid, etc.), scrolling through Twitter. A youngish (teen? 20 something?) couple walked by.…
On Trying
I’ve been thinking a lot about trying: trying times, trying new things, trials and tribulations. And last week, trial by fire as the devastating Almeda fire burned just 25 miles from my home. As I went for my walk today (freshly reminded of how rare and wonderful a smoke-free sky can be), I tried to…
My breasts tried to kill me.
I don’t have cancer. I have had cancer. I maybe will have cancer, and I maybe will have had cancer. In the end, I may die of cancer. Even if I don’t, I’ll still be what they call a cancer survivor. I guess when I was diagnosed about a year ago (the day before my…
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Jennifer Sherman Roberts 