Who is your audience? The writing authorities advise us to pen our prose and poetry for others, or for that single make-believe companion sitting across the room, expectantly waiting to imbibe our enlightening words of wisdom. (Sometimes, I write to my plants. That counts, right?) Write about topics that our…

I’ve been hearing statements like this lately:

“I know my problems are nothing compared to what you’re going through.”

“My loss isn’t as painful as yours.”

I say this with the greatest abundance of love: Stop it.

You see, I lost a child a couple of years ago. It is…

I don’t care what it is. Sew. Cook. Paint. Throw pottery. Make a chalk drawing on your sidewalk.

Make a new friend.

It’s my New Day’s Resolution to make something today.

I don’t keep New Year’s Resolutions, so that’s something I don’t make. But I can generally keep New Day’s…

The feel of the soft yarn as it slides through my fingers. The rhythmic clicking of the metal needles against each other. The almost magical formation of an article fit for wearing from a piece of string.

I paused and examined the hat I was knitting, satisfied with the way…

Hello, fellow introvert.

So, you want to write and share it with the world, right? You’ve set up your blog or your account at Medium. Now what?

I mean, after all, sharing your writing with an unfamiliar audience is kinda like stepping up on that stage while trying not to…

Snowpocalypse. Snowmageddon. The Great Bread Shortage of 2019. Whatever you want to to call it, Seattle is in the midst of if.

Speaking of bread, why is that the first section of the grocery store to become completely decimated whenever a zombie-apocalypse-type event is imminent? I mean, what’s wrong with…

The woods surrounding my home are teeming with wildlife: deer, birds, squirrels and the occasional bear or coyote. They’ve become part of the landscape, blending into the snow-covered trees in the winter and the bubbling streams in the summer.

I didn’t know any of them. Until the other day.

The…

The other day, I came across this tweet from one of my favorite authors, Anne Lamott:

If you’ve ever read any of Anne’s works, you’ll know that words seem to come to her as easily as I can burn a pancake.

But they certainly don’t come easily to me…