Tag Archives: memory

Writing it down as incarnation

Posted on August 9, 2010 by catbird2

As far as semester endings go, the past few weeks have been better than usual. They’ve turned out more breathlessly busy than mentally excruciating, and that is certainly an improvement. Still, there’s been enough to do with grading research projects … Continue reading →

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Adventures in unpacking

Posted on July 18, 2010 by catbird2

I’ve been one week in a new apartment, along with Kyle and the three cats, and today I’m working on getting it to smell like home. I’ve got incense burning and some Indian curried chicken in the slow cooker, doing … Continue reading →

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A new car!

Posted on July 5, 2010 by catbird2

I’m moving this week, dear readers, and having internetz troubles at home. And so I present, from my home storage vault, an older tale about a previous move to keep you reading while I pack boxes and jiggle wires. Enjoy. … Continue reading →

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Lemons and plum juice

Posted on June 17, 2010 by catbird2

Adventures in being foreign Generally this is a space for waxing poetic rather than political. But today I was inspired by this campaign ad video from gubernatorial (that means governor) candidate Tim James, which has been burning up YouTube and … Continue reading →

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Run, Kookaburra

Posted on April 3, 2010 by catbird2

Now that spring has, reluctantly and after much pleading, finally come to Alabama, the runners in my neighborhood are out in droves. It’s a great place to live if you’re a runner – sidewalks, parks, shade trees, hills for added … Continue reading →

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Cream of Wheat

Posted on March 26, 2010 by catbird2

Only thin steam hovers over the saucepan, but somehow the windows are cloudy. My hair, still wet from the shower, is wilting in the moist heat. Where the hood light shines on the stove, sponge-circles from its last cleaning swirl … Continue reading →

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First haircut, brother and sister

Posted on March 18, 2010 by catbird2

She wanted to do it herself, our mother                                                                                       No careless barber would toss                                                                                                        Our blonde curls on the floor                                                                                                      Metal grind of scissors closing No careless barber would make                                                                                                   Whisper of falling hair                                                                                                                 Metal grind of scissors closing                                                                                                  David was … Continue reading →

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