Sometimes I slug the coffee down. Sometimes I sip. Depends on what I'm trying to achieve. What's on my mind as I wrap my hands around a steaming mug of superhero? Lions and gazelles. I've got Africa fever lately. My sister lives there. My husband's going there. I just put an Africa-shaped blood stain in one… Continue reading Weekend Coffee Share…Lion or Gazelle?
...as to why I'd temporarily abandon my blog. Something happens when you don't write regularly: you get stiff-brain. You believe you don't have anything worthy to say, even though your friends are posting about their new moisture-repelling socks and how potty training's going with the puppy (with pictures). Things, big things, happen, but you neglect… Continue reading This Happens to be an Excuse
It's been 2+ months since my brain surgery, and I'm clawing my way back to the level of energy I once enjoyed—happy to be thus clawing. When I am tired and things don't get done, I smile and thank God I'm alive, that I'm here to sink into the couch after pulling a bit of… Continue reading Unexpected Kindnesses
Hi Husband. For me, the operation will pass in a blink. For you...well, it warms me to know you'll be praying, that you love me, and that you'll still think me pretty even with my red badge of courage. Since I can't travel into the future to take a picture of our next meeting, I… Continue reading While I’m Sleeping
I don't know how to start this, but I've always been a fan of the snapshot of the mind. Here is the snapshot of my mind. Contrary to what you may be thinking, this is not going to be funny. Some of you I know in life, and some are my friends through this blog. Either way,… Continue reading Pray for Me
Some people can't think of anything to write. I don't have that problem. I can always, ALWAYS throw some words down on a page. Probably a result of hours spent freewriting with my students, if you put on a timer and tell me to write, I'll fill pages and pages of stream-of-consciousness. Some people start… Continue reading Dear Diary…
I used to think I was open-minded. Then I had teenagers. And they were... let's just say their tastes veered into the eccentric. My kids, my first two, simply would not play by the rules. And by rules I meant wearing dresses and liking it, using utensils at formal dinners, begging to sing in the… Continue reading P is for Paul, Katae’s Paul