Tag: creative synthesis

Come Backs

Well, just crap on a cracker. Tom showed me an article that says saddle oxfords are back in style. People will start wearing saddle oxfords again. I’ll keep wearing my saddle oxfords. Then they’ll stop wearing theirs. They will look at my feet like, girl, don’t you know saddle oxfords aren’t in style any more? This happens to me all the time....

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When People Don’t Like Your Work

At Beth’s Bookstore, I slipped a paperback from the shelf. I read the first line. That’s how I chose a book: the first line, then the first paragraph. Sometimes if I’m unsure, I continue further down the page. Then I either buy the book or I put it back. I’ve been burned using this method—occasionally, a book doesn’t live up to the opening—but...

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Rainy Day Thoughts

There is a person inside of me who sits on the sofa like the little boy in the back-in-the-day commercial who says, “And I can’t find my socks.” There’s also the girl who wants to pull on her wellies and stomp through the puddles, umbrella resting on her shoulder. There’s the granddaughter who wants to shake a wet...

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Just Wondering

* does everyone automatically lift their foot from the accelerate when they see a cop, or is it just me? * have we ever measured a dog’s blood pressure to see if our presence makes her pressure go down? * why did the salesman let me buy a black and blue shirt with a black and blue tie to go with “black” pants that would be revealed to be brown once...

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My Peony Life

Last night, I remembered the peonies in my dream. Startled, I wondered: had I missed their blooming? Many years ago, I dug a hole to China and planted the peony bulb in my yard – 18 inches isn’t deep until you start digging. I’d fallen in love with the flower’s ostentatiousness, its irrational exuberance, its beauty. But...

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Things I Noticed Today

a robin chirping the wind chimes tinkling the pressure washing going on next door a plane piloted by my neighbor buzzing his house, twice a barge coming down the Wolf River Harbor my husband coughing as he took a nap the dog scratching at the closet door the weed-eater the chainsaw the tree limb scratching against the side of the house the heavy...

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It’s Different

“Begin with yourself,” said several of the panelists at today’s Memphis United People’s Conference on Race and Equality. They were talking about racism. “Begin with yourself and ripple out from there: to your household, your family, your neighborhood, your community.” This ls a paraphrase, but the concept was repeated many times. This is where...

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Open to All

There is a religion in New Orleans that I don’t know. In this religion the windows open outward. The joy vibrates and you are asked, “Are you Italian?” No?” Then you are told about the blessed bean. In this religion, hands wave, the food is spread and waiting. Sometimes the religion is about the saints. Sometimes it’s about the floats you worked...

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My New Definition of Worthwhile

Last night, we stood in line with hordes of  parade goers, waiting for the ‘’Tit R~x Parade to get underway. In my hand I held a hastily-constructed stand of tiny spectators, proportionately appropriate for the tiny floats making up the parade that parodies the grandaddy of all Mardi Gras parades, the Krewe of Rex. I’d read that the creator of...

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The Uncertainty of Being Southern

As my husband ate a haystack, munching away, I thought about my earlier conversation with the man at the fireplace shop. “Why are they called dog irons?” I asked. I only asked the man this question after walking through his entire 50,000 square foot store and not seeing one dog on the fireplace equipment. He said, “They’re not. They’re andirons.” Southern...

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