
When my eleven-year-old daughter asked for an Instagram account this year, I was mortified. How was it possible she was old enough to even consider such a thing? I refused…
When my eleven-year-old daughter asked for an Instagram account this year, I was mortified. How was it possible she was old enough to even consider such a thing? I refused…
It’s 6:30 am in Newfoundland, and I’m just now finishing my packing. The car is splitting at her seams, the last bits of our lives shoved into the trunk, spilling…
When I hear of the passing of writers like Maya Angelou or Russell Edson or Gabriel Garcia Marquez or Maxine Kumin, all lost this year, I’m wounded because I have a…
Last week, after a quick stop at the post office, I steered off the main road and cut through the gravel that led to one of the many narrow peninsulas…
and the world did not end. The earth did not stop its wild rolling. The ground did not heave and split apart. The sun did not blink out. As strange…
I think my son and I are breaking up. It seems a strange way to describe our relationship, but I can’t think of another way, and if you’re a mother of…
I want more letters in my life. Real life letters. Handwritten letters that come in the mail. The kind that make me want to write back. Remember those? There have been times…