My Wandering Pen. Blog Thoughts.
"Not all those who wander are lost."– J.R.R. Tolkein
Discovering a New Language in NYC
Several weekends ago, I was in New York City with my husband. It has become an annual affair—three years running now. And you know I won’t let him forget this tradition he’s begun. I love the city. I love to soak in all the city offers, then leave it and come home to...
An Easter Blessing From My Kitchen to Yours
Finally. Spring has sprung in my part of Appalachia. The flowering trees all over town and in my yard are filled out with their milky white and pink tinged flowers. The mountainsides have taken on a rusty amber glow; evidence of tree buds lining branches. Soon the...
On Facebook Tributes & Imagining a Different Social Media
Recently, while wasting time on social media, I ran across something that changed my time wasting into time eternal. It was a Facebook post written by one of my dear writing friends, Cynthia Beach. In it, she paid tribute to a deceased fellow she never knew well—other...
A Difficult Conversation, Part 2
On Saturday, I wrote to you about a difficult conversation I had with one of my children’s coaches. If you missed it, click here, to catch up. Otherwise… How did the conversation go? You are wondering. It went well! And…it was exhausting. There were several points of...
A Difficult Conversation, Part 1
This week I had a difficult conversation (for me, anyway) with one of my children’s coaches. It was difficult for lots of reasons, but mostly it was difficult because I worked hard to stay fully in the moment—close to what I heard the coach saying. Close to my...
Lydia Crocheting in the Garden & the Art of the Mundane
Over Christmas, on one of my multiple trips to Barnes & Noble to buy presents (no, not just for me), I happened upon a table overflowing with day calendars. You know the kind I’m talking about: those desk calendars you tear a page away every day, and are...
On Birthday Songs and Yesterdays
Today is my birthday. As I’ve gotten older, and life more complicated, I notice I play this strange tug-of-war game over my birthday in my head. Not over the fact I’m one year older (though this is beginning to have its tug, too). Rather, over the idea of wanting it...
Dancing Like Me
My children (most of them) were off the entire week of school last week. Monday was Martin Luther King Jr. Day, Tuesday was a teacher work day (for two of them, the other two went to school). Then, snow. It was lovely at first; snow falling on the mountains, wrapping...
The Holiness of Spoons
Only hours (minutes?) into my New Year’s Resolution and I’m failing. Of course I am. Why would I think otherwise? Living present to the mundane is anything but natural. Anything but automatic. Eating healthy and exercising regularly is easier for me than noticing the...
A New Year: On Being Present
Well, then. Here we are. Out with the old, in with the new. Except it never cleans up quite so neatly, does it? Still. Long-limbs Lenore was on to something that New Year’s Eve in Times Square with Forrest and Captain Dan. “Don’t you just love New Year’s?” she says to...
Tragedy, Artists & Generative Thinking
Tomorrow morning I leave for Grand Rapids, MI for the Breathe writing conference. I am presenting two sessions—my first time presenting at a writing conference. I should be working on the final edits and notes for my second presentation. But instead, my eyes landed on...
A Guest Post at BreatheConference.com
In October, I have the honor of teaching two sessions at the Breathe Conference in Grand Rapids, Michigan. I will be speaking with attendees about the day in and day out of the writing life, as well as how to make the writing life happen amidst the chaos of...
When it's a Time for Remembering
It’s been quiet in my little teeny corner of bloggy land. Which usually means my real life has been especially un-quiet. It’s been a heck of a summer. I… …graduated my oldest son from high school (notice “I” graduated him, as if he had nothing to do with the thing),...
On Finding my run
I am running again. Late last week I ran on the greenway of our little city. It follows alongside the Roanoke River that weaves like discarded ribbon through Roanoke’s kaleidoscope of neighborhoods and businesses. On Saturday, I ran Chestnut Ridge Trail; a 5.4 mile...
Slow Food. Slow Judgement.
Two weeks ago, I attended Roanoke’s first official Pop-Up Dinner. “What’s that?” you ask. Pretty much what it sounds like: a dining experience that “pops up” for a one night only appearance. Like lots of terms these days (‘hipster’ and ‘lit’ for example), the...
Hope, Repentance, and Christmas Ornaments
I am hanging ornaments on my Christmas tree. It is the fake one I set up in the front of my home. There is another tree—a real one my family and I drove up Bent Mountain earlier in the morning to cut from Slaughter’s Christmas Tree Farm (funny name for a Christmas...
When Summertime Becomes Metaphor
At the beginning of the summer—a.k.a.: the end of my freedom, if I were writing melodramatic prose—I prayed for a metaphor. A metaphor to buoy me through the upcoming months of kids at home, in my space, in all their kid-ness. I didn’t think of this on my own. Please....
The Pursuit of the Impractical
I’ve decided that in May, I will pursue the impractical. Let me explain. Last Sunday, in our church’s foyer, I was chatting with an English teacher friend about the busyness of May, which then morphed (as it often does with this particular friend) into a conversation...
Recent Comments