Heart in the skies (a High Desert Singleton post)

“I cannot cause light; the most I can do is try to put myself in the path of its beam.” –Annie Dillard Pilgrim at Tinker Creek The western horizon turns cotton ball white almost every afternoon.  It’s one of the pleasures of living in the high desert, this ability to watch giant clouds marching toward…

Begin, end, begin again (a High Desert Singleton post)

I am high above a brisk northern California beach. Why am I not walking safely atop this wall? The wind is obviously pushing me in all sorts of directions. A friend is turning to look at me. Is he concerned? I feel exuberantly free. In the mid-1990’s, these are my college years just before I…

7 cents, potion, wings (a High Desert Singleton post)

I was suspected of having a learning disability by the time I was in second grade. My assessed struggles weren’t severe enough, though, to land me in Special Education. Still, I tripped and fell many times academically – all the way through college. We each grow differently, yes? One child loses himself in the storybooks…

Toil, change, fly (a High Desert Singleton post)

After I finished my hour-long language lesson, I noticed the Special Education students’ paintings scattered across tables, drying in the far corner of the classroom. Each person’s rendition of the photo was beautiful, of course, in its own way. In this one, I see a flying dinosaur stretching over a cat head (with one ear)…

The Dance: Losing an Alcoholic Mom

Tomorrow is the U. S. holiday, Thanksgiving, and when my mom was alive she was this incredible, introverted cook who shoo’ed everyone out of the kitchen to single handedly create a fucking magnificent array of dishes. She’s been gone for 17 years this month but until this year, I couldn’t think through our story with…

Ode to Singleton Grocery Shopping (a poem)

We fill in the spaces on a Saturday night, some of us clothed in sweats and slippers, knotted, chaotic backs of heads from an afternoon of curled up reading; others swaddled in fashion, faces washed and painted, displaying hair art perfection. We pass each other again and again, play leapfrog from one aisle to the…

Singing the praises of singlehood (softly, not too loudly)

Nearing the end of Don Quixote, I’m realizing that I’m avoiding the book.  One night I busy myself with an extensive tea ritual before journaling.  Another night I dive into the newspaper after taking longer than usual making my lunch for the next workday.  I am, of course, preparing for the break-up.  I will miss…

Table for One — “Who but You?” living alone series

Welcome to my singleton kitchen. Although it seems I’ve been eating healthfully my entire life, an autoimmune disease & general menopause challenges encouraged me to use nutritional healing even more.  Peanut butter & jelly sandwiches, dried soup mixes, total rip-off gourmet gluten-free frozen pizzas, and fried eggs still make steady appearances when I’m unmotivated and…