I sit a lot. How about you?
In my writing studio, first thing in the morning, I settle into my “Bliss Chair.” (Have you added your blessing to it yet?) If I’m not careful, I’ll still be in that chair, happily lost in my creative projects, at 6:00 p.m., when my husband gets home from work.
Up here in the northern hemisphere, we’re approaching the winter solstice. Marking the start of the winter season, December 21 will be the shortest day and the longest, darkest night of the year. After the…
“Do you know that awesome feeling when you get into bed, fall right to sleep, stay asleep all night, and wake up feeling refreshed? … Me neither.” So goes the joke. Here’s another: “I’m neither…
The first lie I can remember telling dates to my first day of kindergarten. The big classroom in our small-town school (long since razed) enchanted me. With a bank of tall windows along one side…
Nightly temperatures have been dipping into the twenties, but at our house, we’re still enjoying tomatoes, thanks to our friend Jim and the small greenhouse he rigged up in our “pandemic victory garden.” Whenever I…
In the hardware store, I select a quart of interior paint from the brands on the shelf. Bright white, for household trim. “My,” the cashier says, as she rings me up, “you’re quite the golden…
I The woman wades into the shallow stream. The frigid October water nips the skin of her legs. The gravelly bottom bites the soles of her bare feet. It’s too late in the season for…
Sometimes “once” just isn’t enough.
Last fall, during a socially distanced writing retreat in Oakwood Lakes State Park, my friend Ruby and I took a short night hike around a wooded peninsula. Without flashlights. Without even a sliver of moon to see by.
This past week, as the leaves began to turn red and gold once again, Ruby and I met up for another writing retreat. This time we camped beside a slough, or big pond, in Lake Herman State Park.
This morning, you come downstairs to find me. You greet me in that sunny voice with which you always bless the beginning of my days. Then you slump on the couch beside me. Your youthful…
This cute critter got me thinking about nesting. She’s a thirteen-lined ground squirrel. Her burrow lay beneath the campsite that my family occupied for several days this past week. The main entrance to the burrow…
Perhaps you’ve noticed: Sometimes, despite meticulous preparations, life just doesn’t go as we planned. Like when you decide to fly halfway across the continent, retrieve your eighty-one-year-old mother, and bring her back home for an…
Tomorrow I fly to North Carolina to retrieve my eighty-one-year-old mother and bring her here to South Dakota for as long as she wants to stay. I can’t wait to throw my arms around her…
© 2022 Phyllis Cole-Dai. Privacy Policy. Website by KO Web Design
