Day 225: Sequoia Sempervirens

As I stand at the base of “The Giant,” a near three-hundred footer, I can think of nothing but our girls. How they swam to us against all odds. How they too are delicate yet strong. How they feel pressed against us, how their hair always smells like baby powder. These trees are magnificent, but they have nothing on the wonder of the thirty-year-old fuck ups who made the most beautiful creatures I’ve ever seen.

My Relapse

April 11th, 2014, Rochester NY: It was a little after two o’clock in the morning; I was driving my car as steady as I possibly could, going exactly 35 mph down Monroe Avenue. Between shifting gears in my bright yellow, cop magnet, five speed Chevy, I was taking baby sips Read more

For Better of Worse

It was a Sunday when the new recliner flew off the Ford, Daddy having failed to latch the tailgate before he roared onto the southbound, following a semi and an argument with Mother on the finer points of the Sabbath. Sunday is a day for rest, not a day for Read more