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I love farmers’ markets. When we go on a trip, I try to find out where the local farmers’ market is. In Portland, for instance, the Saturday Farmers’ Market is on the Portland State campus. And it’s amazing. You go early, planning to eat breakfast (and more) while you’re there. Today was the Wednesday market…

Once, many years ago, I made it through the night breath by breath. I remember laying in the twin bed next to my mother and thinking: one more breath. just one more breath. And I thought: you can die of a broken heart. you can just choose to stop these so-called autonomic reflexes… and just…

This poem sums up — far more beautifully than I can say — how I feel about the current economic situation. It’s by Humberto Ak’Abal, The Dance. While companies and the rich (and even many of the never-will-be rich) are complaining about taxes and ‘handouts’ for the poor, in Oklahoma almost one million children (918,849)…

So an Oregon woman went under anæsthesia for dental surgery speaking American, and came up speaking Anglo-Irish. It’s called ‘foreign accent syndrome.’ I don’t want the brain injury that made it possible, but I’d love a new accent. I have the ubiquitous expat accent: neither this nor that. Midwestern. Ish. I want to sound.. well,…
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