wife | wife
Oct.23.2009
My favorite city in the world is FlorenceAnd not just any Florence but the tiny oneOn a shelf in a photograph from which I laughAt myself seated in a chair at a deskIn an office that lacks FlorenceFor an address, so that people when they comeIn to say hi or with a work-related...
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Oct.09.2009
A doctor, a medical doctor, and there I stood, powerless to help my daughter, two, turning three, flailing her arms, and then grabbing me, my daughter, perhaps, however inconceivably, about to die. A moment before, we were sitting, my wife and I, enjoying our evening meal, our two young...
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Oct.06.2009
I last wrote about my wife, Jennifer, and I celebrating our sixth anniversary in Asheville, NC. That was close to a month ago. I ended the blog post about my wife getting a giant migraine, thus ending the fun times on a difficult note. Well, read on.
My wife got worse, if that's possible. Her...
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Sep.08.2009
As I sit here looking out at the picturesque scene from our kitchen. Where the heavens awe seemlily touches the tree tops. The blue sky with the warm sun playing peekaboo behind the puffy white marshmallow clouds. As the clouds slowing move toward the north with the gentle wind that blows.
Our...
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Aug.29.2009
Just finished another chapter of Hummingbird. Gotta go with the flow, man. Even though the house looks like a Goodwill Dropoff Center. Where's my wife? Gotta getta wife!
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Aug.27.2009
Always and Forever Katie The Rose of Tralee by Annette J Dunleahttp://www.shelfari.com/books/12493453/Always-and-Forever-Katie-The-Rose-of-Tralee
DescriptionKatie is a farmers daughter in Tralee. She is best friends with Ronan. As they grow up they fall in fall. On the night Katie enters the Rose...
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Sep.15.2008
I'm looking at my wife's naked back in amazement. She's asleep. The baby breathes next to her. Early morning darkness smokes our bedroom window. The sheets moonwrinkled. Air cold through the screen. I've read somewhere that the motion of molecules is tempered by cold and quickened by heat. We...
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Sep.09.2008
I'm writing cold bacon and rice cakes. There is not one damn interesting thing to say. There should be something...anything. I wasted this day in a haze. Weary. A bruise on my shoulder from where my wife elbowed me last night. Apparently, I didn't sleep well. One of those nights where the...
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Sep.08.2008
Of course, there are no stars. No cricket can be heard. No deep night owl or the frantic scratching of a wild raccoon. Not even the dumb rooting of a possum. I swing the yellowed face of the lamp to the window, pull aside the curtains, and no swarm of bugs fling themselves at the warm eye on the...
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Sep.05.2008
Lunch. Clouds a few white snarls against the blue. Clomping across the parking lot concrete. A water hose martyred by tire tracks curving new alphabet across the yellow lines, the nose of the hose buried in the mulch of the trees on the far side. A leaf scatters ahead of me as I walk to my car...
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