dailyprompt
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A dreamy little rambling on about what I wanted to be before bills, benefits, and sensible shoes entered the conversation of life… When I was young, I did not dream in salaries. I did not sit around imagining direct deposit, retirement plans, or whether a job came with dental. Childhood dreams have the luxury of…
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A couple of years ago, I met a lady who had a craft booth in the shop where I worked. She did felting, and I remember thinking, “Well, that looks different… and possibly like something my inner crafter would immediately need to investigate.” After watching her demonstrations, I took a class—and just like that, I…
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The strange, tender timing of the things that can leave a mark… Coincidence is a funny little word for something that can feel anything but little. It means the surprising things that happen at the same time by chance, with no planning and no obvious connection. They just happen. Sometimes we hardly notice them. Sometimes…
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A Rambling on about unfinished pages, beloved rereads, and the one book I will never truly be done with. I have a complicated relationship with unfinished books. Not hostile, exactly. More like the relationship one has with exercise equipment bought in January… hopeful, slightly guilty, and occasionally dusted with good intentions. There are books on…
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Rambling on through a broken heart about fictional worlds and losing the light in a world that is growing darker day by day… There is something wonderfully tempting about the idea of living inside a fictional world. Who wouldn’t want to step through a wardrobe, traverse a secret entrance behind fireplace, board a starship, wander…
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Rambling on about a time in history I would like to be there for…| If I could go back and visit one account of history, I would not choose a moment of celebration alone. I would choose a moment wrapped in grief, exhaustion, hope, and fear: the end of World War II and the gathering…
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Rambling on about being inked, scars, and the stories our bodies keep… I have toyed with the idea of getting a tattoo for as long as I can remember. I have drawn designs, saved ideas, studied other people’s ink in grocery store lines and parking lots, and wondered, sometimes kindly, sometimes nosily, what made them…
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A Southern woman’s honest look back at love, memory, and the one who stayed in her heart. When I first read the question, “How did you meet your significant other?” I expected my mind to answer politely, like a well-trained Southern woman at a church supper. Instead, it took off down a dirt road somewhere…
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A Southern reflection on gratitude, gathering, and the complicated country I still love Ask me what cultural traditions I love about my country, and my heart answers before my head can get its shoes on. It says Sunday dinner. It says Thanksgiving. It says the Fourth of July, family recipes, front-porch stories, children running in…
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What day would I relive from my past if I could choose just one? My first thought was, absolutely not yesterday. Yesterday can stay right where it is, thank you very much. There I was, working at a motel in the dark, in hundred-degree heat, with no air conditioning, no lights, and no real desire…
Dirt Road Therapy 