“Stick your head through that wall,” I command a child. Seems right for this place. This place is a Roman amphitheater. Site of gladiatorial battles. This place is Arles, France. …
Paper Doll Tales Posts
I usually don’t expect travel to result in regret. Nostalgia, sure. A marrow-deep slurry of wistfulness that the Portuguese call saudade, absolutely. But regret? Not so much. Travel always somehow…
Once upon a time I kicked the bad habit of teeth grinding. But now the clench is back. And with it comes the threat of receding gum lines, ear aches,…
My eight-year-old daughter C asks the most annoying question: “Wait, what?” She asks it in that way that only a frustrated eight-year-old, youngest of the family, can as she navigates…
“Rest” feels like poison ivy to me. At the conclusion of one day, I’m already asking, “What’s next?” I’m hardwired to plan, execute, and pivot with speed and efficiency. Until…
My children are learning about straight lines. About the concentration that goes into a straight line. Not the continuous path laid by a pencil’s sacrifice, but the intermittent punches of…