It’s my birthday. I’m 49 today. I’m also in the midst of recovering from shoulder surgery, in a semi-diminished state that has left me feeling grateful for many things on this day of taking stock. Example #1: Last week, Byron and I were standing in the bathroom, with him waiting to assist me in some small… Continue reading I Didn’t Eat the Booger
I turn 48 today, and, oh, the joy of it! Behind me are the days of wishing, hoping, longing, wondering. Here now are the days of loving, laughing, appreciating, and clarity. I’m in the thick of it, this business of a happy life, wanting to hug it all to me, hard, while it’s happening. There are… Continue reading Bappy Hirfday to Me
The baritone saxophone doesn’t so much toot as blare. Rattle. Shake the house. When the boy is practicing, blowing all his lung air into the mouthpiece, conversation in another room is impossible. The floors vibrate; then he finishes a scale and calls out, “Playing this thing is loosening my ear wax!” Recently, Paco turned twelve.… Continue reading A Forge and a Purse. That’s All We Need. Oh, and Cake. Plus This Candle. And a Bow Staff. A Unicorn.
“At the age of six I wanted to be a cook. At seven I wanted to be Napoleon. And my ambition has been growing steadily ever since.”–Salvador Dali Today, Byron turns 42. He has been, and in some cases still is, son, brother, friend, father, student custard scooper corn cross-pollinator park ranger naturalist anthropology and… Continue reading Steadily Growing
Once again, I beg the forbearance of my long-time readers with this post, as it’s a re-run (but I’ve added new pictures at the end!). However, because it’s a personal favorite, I hope you’ll hang in there for a re-read…or perhaps for a first-time through. —————————————– “Twelve Years Since the Blue Moon” I got engaged… Continue reading Twelve Years Since the Blue Moon
If your browser allows it, click Play: [audio:http://omightycrisis.com/wp-content/uploads/2012/03/12-The-Circle-Game.mp3|titles=12 – The Circle Game] ——————————————- One year, when my dad’s birthday rolled around, my mom didn’t know what to buy him for a gift–he already lived under Montana’s Big Sky and possessed a lovely tenor voice, both of which made the case for him as A Man Who… Continue reading Drag Your Feet to Slow the Circles Down
Bjork once described herself by saying: “I am a fountain of blood in the shape of a girl.” Although I like how her thinking strips away all pretense while still acknowledging the overlay of gender, I wish her words had gone on to include the importance of whimsy: “I’m a fountain of blood in the shape of a girl draped in the… Continue reading The Shape of a Girl