I haven’t written here in months. Not because I ran out of things to say, but because I’ve lost my courage to share myself here. Someone close to me called my writing cowardly, self-serving, and indulgent. They accused me of plundering for attention, and of using others’ pain to feed my own self-importance. It stung so bitterly because it lanced something I already knew about myself. There’s a certain ego required to write about yourself and believe other people will find it worth reading. Is it indulgent? Is it a cry for attention? A ploy to collect the little dopamine hits that come in the form of likes and comments?…

I think I may have writer’s block. I got discouraged by some unsolicited feedback over the summer, and I am really struggling to shrug it off. I know that is part of it. Being in grad school and writing papers that take a lot of time but don’t leave much scope for creativity doesn’t help, either. But it is bugging me that the comments I got about my writing are still bugging me, four + months later. I am 47 years old. Why do I still allow other people to control the way I see myself? When will I finally grow some tougher skin that can rebuff the shit that…

Before I get to the pottery, I’ve got an unrelated but quick Murphy story. We were hiking in Canada a few weeks ago and Murph was having a blast. There weren’t any other people on the trail so I let him off leash to explore a bit. That actually slowed me down because I had him on my running leash which goes around my waist and he was pulling me up the trail. Also I stopped a few times to take photos of the wild flowers. I am an always trailing on hikes because I’m so much shorter than Matt and because Ethan has his 12-year-old energy driving him. This…

Last Sunday was Stepmother’s Day. Every year, Stepmother’s Day is the Sunday after Mother’s Day. I’m not sure if Hallmark knows this. If so, I haven’t seen much effort to capitalize on it through cards or similar merchandise. If that seems like an oversight, I’m not too worried about it. We don’t even have a Stepfather’s Day (though there is a National Stepfamily Day, which is September 16th). I think most people, if they have stepparents in their lives, are content to send multiple cards on the big parent day holidays, which makes perfect sense. In my little family, we have “Rachel Day” on some weekend around Mother’s Day. Ethan’s…

My husband, Matt, entrusted me with a deeply personal secret that I am now sharing on the internet. (Never marry a writer, my little possums. That’s my best advice.) I knew that when he was a kid, maybe through high school, he fantasized about being a professional athlete. He figured out by the end of senior year (especially once his best friend started getting courted by universities for their football teams – and he was not) that wasn’t very realistic and let it go. What I didn’t know was that he secretly dreamt of being a rock star in a band. When he went away to college, he got a…

I was looking for some goofy socks for my nephew, who plays the trombone. I found these mislabeled ones on Amazon and had to take a screenshot to share with my sisters. I think the rest is self explanatory. I didn’t end up buying them. Maybe I would have bought myself a pair if they had been as described. Then I saw this book, but by then it was after Christmas. Of course, it looks like one of a kind; not a “buy with one click” kind of deal. Maybe I’ll send my nephew the photo and ask him if he wants it for his birthday.

Over the weekend, I wished the bagger at our grocery store “Happy Holidays!” She responded with saccharine sweetness, “Happy Halloween!” As we pushed our laden cart away from her and toward the parking lot, I said to Matt, “I don’t understand what just happened, but I think I’m all for it.” “I think,” he said, “she was passive/aggressively telling you to take your war on Christmas and shove it up your ass.” “Because I said ‘Happy Holidays’?” I asked. “Yes.” “Maybe,” I said, secretly thinking Matt was being a paranoid liberal and a bit of a humbug. “But I’m still digging it.” In my mind, ‘the holidays’ start with Mabon…

This is, I realize, a PEAK Gen X nerd out, but… I follow Muppet History on Facebook. I just saw this post about Sweetums today. Sweetums was always one of my favorites and the reason I always preferred The Muppet Show to Sesame Street. (Sweetums but also the old guys (Statler and Waldorf), and the guy that shot fish out of cannons. And Pigs in Space. Actually nevermind, I loved all of it.) Anyway, the post reminded me of a little vignette of a memory. The first time I saw The Muppet Movie as a child I was quite distressed when Sweetums got left behind. I was so upset about…

I was at an airport, and I overheard a video chat a young woman (mid- to late-twenties, I’m guessing) was having with a friend. She was loud and dramatic, which is why I heard as much of the conversation as I did. “I can’t even get into it right now. No one understands what kind of emotional pain I am in!” There is a Tracey Ullman sketch where she is Angela Merkel and she is trying so hard not to roll her eyes that the rest of her body flips off the couch she is perched upon. I wasn’t about to flip off an airport chair, but I was in…

I’m slowly working my way through the challenges presented in the British reality TV series, “The Great Pottery Throwdown.” My friend and pottery studiomate, Stef, are calling it our Wee Pottery Throwdown. The first challenge was five nesting bowls. That one took me several tries. I had to throw about ten bowls to get five that nested nicely. The second challenge is a birdbath, and I had a false start with that one, also. I threw a large platter starting with five pounds of clay. I liked the shape I ended up with but I decided it wasn’t wide enough, and the sides were flatter than I intended. I was…