By far, my favorite Christmas present this year came from Delia, my 13-year-old goddaughter. A week before the holiday, she called from Boston (yes, a tween used a phone!) to ask a bunch of questions about my shared childhood with her mother for a school project. Then, on Christmas day, she sent me this poem, which she said was the real motivation for all her questions. I was so impressed with both her delivery system and the poem itself that I felt inspired to share it here. I’d think she was a wonderful writer even if I didn’t love her so much. Continue Reading →
Archive | Spirit Matters
Not Just Another Day on the IRT
Mercury retrograde begins tomorrow and will last through January 25. This round, it’s taking place in know-it-all Capricorn and big-ideas Aquarius, which means that it’ll be a better time for making plans than executing them–and a generally terrible time for clear, direct communication. Back up your electronics, make contingency plans, slow down (make even get a reading), and above all, don’t blame everything–especially your transgressions–on Mercury Retrograde, which gets an unnecessarily bad rap. I find these periods an excellent time to hole up with a book, a fireplace, a brand-new notebook, and our personal connection to the divine intelligence of, well, everything.
Oy, Christmas Tree
I’m still sick and it’s maddening. I’m aware that whining about a holiday malaise betrays my Ninth Rule of Order but I waited a full day before announcing my frustration, and rationalize that this post may grant someone the comfort of solidarity.
I ducked out this morning to do errands and grossed everyone out the minute I heaved my sorry ass onto the sidewalk. I came home to realize even permakitten Grace was put off by her roommate, which, on general principle, annoyed me: I clean her shit, for heaven’s sake. I may be on the mend but am stuck in that deeply irritating stage in which you feel better but sound and look far, far worse. With my rattling cough and mucus-laden speech, I am 2016’s Typhoid Mary, and am super not into it. Send Calgon and comics from where ever you are. Kisses if you can spare them.
In other news, I hated my Christmas tree this year. It had charm, don’t get me wrong. Stubby and lumpy, it was a real Charlie Brownstone, and the price was on point. I almost bought it from the corner deli on the way home from Christmas Eve services but the dudes were still asking 45 clams, so I waited until that 70-degree Christmas morning, when they agreed to deliver it up to my third-floor walk-up for twenty bucks. They even threw in the stand for free. Continue Reading →