Carolee Bennett –> poet. artist. crankypants.
as a runner, i am particularly saddened by the choice of this setting for any kind of violence. as a resident of albany, ny, i wonder how much longer we can be safe (incidents in manhattan just to our south, boston a similar distance to our west). as a poet, i only wish words could be larger…
a wet and cold evening. the boys played lacrosse in the rain. drenched and muddy, they filled up my car with quite the distinct aroma of boy sweat. and i couldn’t have been happier.
i took this picture yesterday in the plaza where i was running some laps. just a couple blocks from my apartment, it’s one of my favorite places to run through, and i include it on my route a couple times a week. it’s a reminder to me of all the changes i’ve made.
yesterday, my 11-year-old announced he was going to change his name to morgan freeman. i would be ok with that, except…
despite a windy couple weeks, we can feel the sun now. and i couldn’t be happier about that.
one of the true pleasures in life is to look forward to a book and have it be worthy of the anticipation. and it’s extra special when the content resonates so amazingly you can scream, yes! yes! yes! (a la sally in the fake orgasm in a diner scene in when harry met sally).
we grow tired of having nothing to tend. we dream of flower beds and vegetable gardens. we wait for the first signals that it’s ok to care as deeply as we do.