One Line a Day: Day 6

September 1, 2015

Oy vey words

Responses to prompts.  Surfacing identities.  Reflecting on how identity shapes my views of self.  Boiled down to a rubric.

One Line a Day: Day, um, “5”

September 1, 2015

Early signs abound.  Soybeans turning yellow.  Maple leaves unveiling hidden cartenoids.  Poplar leaves eager to be the first to touch the grass.  A weekend without blades cutting the lawn.  Whitetails turning gray, their presence lessening as the hunt approaches.

One Line a Day: Day 4

August 27, 2015

“Civil discourse.”  Was I splitting hairs?  The dialogue to examine reasons for including it or not was, itself, wonderfully civil.  I felt a shared understanding and a deepening connection with you.  Thank you.

Split hair


One Line a Day: Day 3

August 27, 2015

I have intentionally practiced waiting, listening, and observing during what would have normally been situations in which I would like to exert control or fill with words.  Waiting with curiosity for what might arise in these moment has been good and worthwhile.Definition of Wait

One Line a Day: Day 2

August 25, 2015

Pausing over divots left in the ground.

Walking the ground in search of more pauses.

Northern Flicker on groundFrom:

One Line a Day: Day 1

August 24, 2015

Geometric shape


A line a day.  That can’t be too hard, right?  Hell, there’s an entire market for things labeled “A Line a Day.”  Journals, diaries, coffee mugs.  I think even a drug trade may have used this as part of its marketing strategy, but I could be wrong about that.

Anyway, I’ve decided to give it a go.  You know, write a line that holds in it the space of my day.  The loud spaces.  The silent spaces (oh, the silent spaces!).  The confused and chaotic.  The angry and hurt.  The joyful and peaceful spaces.  After awhile of writing these lines, I’ll see what story they tell.  For now, though, I just need to write.  Something.  A line, maybe!

Day 1:

My brothers and I used to make light of the worry my Mom had when she knew that the three of us were traveling in the same car.  Yesterday, I heard Madeline say to Karen, “I can drive Ellie to the Swing In; I need to attend, too.”

Sorry, Mom; I am so sorry.  Now I know…

Feeling the Pressure

February 10, 2015

I am all about consistency. Predictability. Staying the course.

Wait. Let me start over.

Until this morning, I was perfectly comfortable ignoring this blog for at least another 4 months, since I was well within one standard deviation (S.D. 251) of the mean of the number of days between posts (~127 days).

And then I received this message today: “_____ just started following you at They will receive an email every time you publish a post. Congratulations.”

“Congratulations.” Really? Do you realize how much pressure this places on me? Congratulations?! Crap.

It’s not that I don’t want followers or this follower in particular. Quite the opposite. I really respect the person who has decided to follow this blog, not to mention the work the person creates. Poetry, wonderful poetry. Poetry from Iowa, no less.

But I don’t want to disappoint anyone, or at least anyone else. And certainly not a follower. So I will do my part by posting again. Soon. As within one standard deviation above the mean.