-
footsteps through Atlanta
We stood on an unassuming street in Atlanta, Georgia. The small, old-fashioned looking houses standing in neat rows across the street suggested modest living. Simple. A woman with a backpack walked out her front door a few homes up and sped down the way, seemingly not seeing anything that was around her as she peered ahead to her day and her tasks. A car pulled up and parked across the street from where I stood. Five individuals jumped out and pointed their cell phones and small, point-and-shoot cameras in my direction. I quickly skirted down the concrete steps I stood upon, and out of their respective shots and selfies. After all, they weren’t there…
-
Expectations vs Reality (and a little office tour)
On Wednesday night last week, an ice storm hit the wider Denver area. It was a small potatoes storm when compared to what you might see in the northeastern part of the U.S., but it was enough to glaze over the sidewalks, cars, windshields and—this will be important to our story—the roads with a slick sheet of icy chaos. I had two assignments lined up for the following day. Both for the same publication, but different in nature and location. One was at a school in Longmont (about an hour north of Denver), the other at a government facility in Aurora (thirty minutes due east). I was expected in Longmont at 9:15…
-
Espresso Mania 3000
There comes a moment in every coffee-loving gal’s life when you meet the one. It’s a beautiful moment; the kind of occasion that might one day inspire novels, epic poems, or at least a sappy pop song or two. This meeting—my very special meeting—involved a Breville espresso maker. I have spent many a day since junior year of high school enjoying a cup of coffee with the prying of the blankets from my still-drowsy fingers the rising of the sun. Through the ages, this coffee journey has involved all manners of coffee makers from Mr. Coffee, to Mr. French Press, to Mr. Chemex. Worthy coffee makers. Valiant even. Worthy of a stanza in that epic…
-
The Doldrums of January
You all feel that right? The subtle, yet quite noticeable presence of the doldrums of January. It’s an affliction that arrives somewhere in between the packing up of holiday decorations and the realization that the new year ahead very much exists in uncharted territory. Here be dragons, as it were. January, February, March, these first few months always throw me for a loop. I find myself rather torn wanting to be both optimistic—resolute you might say—toward making the new year a smashing success, and experiencing the often more present feelings of overwhelm, ennui, and indecisiveness. Your 2017 planner is shiny, new, unfilled and demanding; your to-do list is staring at you waiting to…
-
to be or not to be
I’m sitting at our kitchen table, our Christmas tree still glowing behind me. We keep the Christmas tidings rolling past December 25 in this household. It’s the New Year: 2017. We made it. I get the sense that we collectively stopped holding our breaths when the clock struck midnight on New Year’s Eve. And then maybe collected a whole new deep breath into our lungs. There are many mysteries ahead for this year, but it feels momentous to have finally turned the calendar forward from 2016. As my grandfather said, “It’s time to stop staring down our noses at it and face it head on.” I’ve never much been one for New Year’s…
