“You need to get with it,” I say to Riley, like I do nearly a dozen times a day, then I jot down the phrase. Get with it. I taste the words a little, stare down at the shape of them, the jerking movement of the letters. Kirk Byron Jones has me watching my language […]

In the late afternoon, we sit and sip coffee from steaming cups, two friends with a wealth of life between us and crinkles at the corners of our eyes. We toss aside our phones, with all their connection that disconnects, and wrap our fingers around warm mugs. I brewed the coffee and she showed up […]

We–I mean all of us–used to send more mail; we had baskets of pre-selected cards and special pens, pretty stamps and seals.  We even went to parties to learn how to emboss and bought accessories to make art deliverable by post.  Despite our busy lives, Stampin Up is still a thing.  I checked. Automatically, those […]

Mid-morning and they wander out to me, rested and fresh from sleep, blanket lines on their high-boned cheeks.  Riley’s brassy hair swings out from her shoulders, lifted by the breeze, as she settles into the chair across from me, carrying her breakfast.  “Happy birthday, Mom Jones,” she says, while Zoe gently drops a present on […]

“So tell me everything you would like to do this afternoon,” I say, pulling a capless pen from the chipped bisque mug on the desk, sliding a notepad in front of me.  Pansies float around the edge of the paper.  The impressions of Adam’s carb counts from breakfast dent the blank top page, making a […]

In the morning, he puts a cup in my hands, french-pressed and steaming, the flavor deep, and I sip, letting the new day develop.  My chilled fingers begin to warm to the living ahead of me, living that surely overflows the banks and spills, splashing.  I crack the blinds and watch light overtake darkness, slowly, […]

This is such a crazy time, isn’t it?! In the end, it is something in every way tiny–a broken hairband, actually, popping and snapping against my fingers–that finally breaks my resolve.  It’s always that way with a slow crumble.  Millions of rips–unseen, unheard, unhealed–weaken the muscle until finally the barest graze finishes the work. I stand behind […]

Five o’clock and the day gasping, my children hang on me like satellites in orbit.  I stand at the sink, rubbing green beans between my fingers in a colander, the water rushing over, warm.  For a breath—just one—I wonder about where these beans grew–what close field, the color of the soil, the smell.  I wonder whose […]

Today, I will hug each of my children as many times as I serve them meals — because children’s hearts feed on touch. I’ll look for as many opportunities to touch my children today as possible — the taller they are, the more so. ~Ann Voskamp Every day breathing, for me, means learning this: love comes first. I remember […]

You say grace before meals./All right. / But I say grace before the play and the opera, /And grace before the concert and the pantomime, /And grace before I open a book, /And grace before sketching, painting,/ Swimming, fencing, boxing, walking, playing, dancing,/And grace before I dip the pen in the ink (~G.K. Chesterson, as […]