“Why do you go away? So that you can come back. So that you can see the place you came from with new eyes and extra colors. And the people there see you differently, too. Coming back to where you started is not the same as never leaving.” ~Terry Pratchett
I try to tell Step-daughter: leaving isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. She’ll be a senior this year, and although I don’t think she plans to go away to college, I know it is nevertheless her intention to get as far away from Illinois as possible after she graduates. I think she believes–as I once did–that happiness isn’t possible here, that there’s nothing so boring and ugly as the prairie, and that there have to be better, nicer, and smarter people in bigger cities elsewhere in the country. Continue reading “This road I’m walkin’ on from time to time always leads me home.”
I think it to myself sometimes: wouldn’t it be amazing to go back to high school and know what I know now? The mom of the senior I photographed the other day said it out of the blue and I could only smile and agree. Her kid, meanwhile, looked at us like we were both crazy old people who’d forgotten what it was like to actually be in high school. Continue reading “The Drama”
I took these before. Before he went and danced his ass off. Before he had to try to salvage the evening because she was trying to do a number on him. Before he came home early knowing that they weren’t going to make it very much longer.
Continue reading “The Man in Black”
Sometimes, when I’m sitting quietly on my couch crocheting and watching West Wing, my mind wanders a bit and I end up rethinking things I haven’t thought in a while. This morning, it was this: wouldn’t it be great if there was some outward sign that a person was poison or evil or generally not worth the skin they’re printed on?
I’m having a difficult week. So are the kids, but we’re all attempting to keep that to ourselves and put on a happy face. Continue reading “These are the times that try [wo]men’s souls.”
I like to think that I’ve finally gotten too old to give a damn. Certainly, I mostly act as if that’s true. When Mom and I are out and about misbehaving and I happen to look up and catch someone staring, I usually smile at them and go right back to our conversation. Who gives a rat’s ass what they think about us? Continue reading “A Little Temporary Descent”