Author: Jocelyn
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Found My Marbles
That damn marble. For the past couple of years, every time I’ve swept the kitchen floor–so, like, five times–I’ve dislodged that damn marble from its hiding place under the radiator. After warming up with gentle strokes around the stove, near the fridge, over by the bathroom, I close in on the radiator. It’s time to get real.…
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I’ll Tell You Why I’m Crying
I’m crying. I’m crying because I’m running. I’m crying because I’m running because my right eye weeps whenever the slightest breeze blows against it. I’m crying because I’m running because my right eye weeps whenever the slightest breeze blows against it because the tear duct is apparently clogged. I’m crying because I’m running because my…
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13
He comes home from school and tells me, “My legs have been hurting again. I must be growing.” We measure him. He’s sprouted a quarter inch in the past three weeks. At just over 5’6″, the kid is taller than I am. ** We park by the garage. Allegra’s door flies open, and she skitters…
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Oh no love! You’re not alone
I had thought it would be dark. I had thought it would be quiet. I had thought it would feel like being inside a phone booth. Close. Encapsulating. Perhaps calming, in the way a compact, dark, quiet space can be. Like hiding in a closet during Hide-N-Seek when the edges of the world fall away,…
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This Wrap-Up Is the Only Thing I’m Wrapping
I didn’t wrap one single gift this season. Relatedly: this was my favorite stretch of holiday weeks ever. It actually started with Thanksgiving, when we curtsy-ed our way out of traditional family celebrations and, instead, invited friends from Massachusetts to visit. Were I to highlight a moment that illustrates why I loved this year’s Thanksgiving, it would be…
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A Three-Hour Tour
True story: about three years ago, on some occasion when we were staying in a hotel–probably during a gloomy soul-suck of a February–we turned on the television to enjoy a bit of that glamorous thing called cable. On a very fine network, one devoted to aspirational lifestyles, house flipping, and hanging bamboo “art” in Vermont…
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Not for the Faint of Heart or Soft of Skull
Looks like Byron’s playing dress-up. Is he a coal miner? Hobo? George Michael circa 1983? Or is there another explanation for the state of his face? There sure is. Someone did this to him. His name is Denis, and he was assisted by a compact second named Henri. Denis and Henri led Byron–led all of…
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Cocinar
There is a women’s cooperative in Leon, Nicaragua, dedicated to reviving and passing forward some dying indigenous history. Specifically, they are working to preserve ancient recipes. First, they draw upon their collective knowledge of recipes, and then they teach each other. After that, they open their homes so that they can teach interested parties, often…
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Faces of Nicaragua
As a family who doesn’t draw energy from the holidays but twirls with hands to the sky at the notion of taking a trip, the choice was easy: we flew to Nicaragua for Christmas and New Year’s. So far, we’ve eaten plantain chips and yucca; tried the famous seven-year rum; felt the bottoms of our…
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Decades: Don, Age 90
Don was in education for 40+ years, as a high school teacher, principal, and college professor. However, his education experience began in a one room rural elementary school, with no electricity and no running water! He is a native Minnesotan who lives in St. Cloud. Think of a specific time you felt joy.…