Tag Archives : Humor

Lifestyle

Molly Fisk: It’s Curtains

By Molly Fisk
It’s probably time to confess I have a few long-standing addictions, and one of them is to ironing. I need to iron something at least once a decade or I don’t seem to be able to function.
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Lifestyle

Molly Fisk: Book. Cover. You Know the Drill.

By Molly Fisk
The strange thing about humans is how little one can deduce just by looking at them. Sure, there’s the obvious: tall, short, thin, stout, straight hair or curly, old or young. Skin color. Clothing style. Syntax. But even though our minds are usually making snap judgements and concocting stories about everyone we see, the real stories almost never show on the outside.
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Lifestyle

Damn All the Experts, Full Speed Ahead!

By Stacia Friedman
By Stacia Friedman

Rather than having a panic attack over the very real possibility of putting the nuclear button in the hand of a political novice who never ran for office, practiced law or served in the military, let’s take a deep breadth and look at the other ways to put experienced professionals where they belong. In the unemployment line!

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Lifestyle

Molly Fisk: Baby Snake Season

By Molly Fisk
But the real harbinger of spring in my mind is the baby snake. Not every household pays attention to baby snakes, but if you have any cats who were abandoned in and then rescued from a barn in San Luis Obispo, you'll know what I mean.
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Lifestyle

Molly Fisk: Menopause & Woodpile

By Molly Fisk
By Molly Fisk

I’ve always been a little mulish about practical things. Identified with the grasshopper instead of the ants. Maybe using this wood stove is my better self’s method of reminding me to grow up. (Better late than never. . .) Jack Kornfield titled one of his Zen books, "After the Ecstasy, the Laundry." In my case it’s "After Insomnia, the Woodpile."

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Lifestyle

Molly Fisk: Ursus Californiensis

By Molly Fisk
By Molly Fisk

I don’t have any coaching clients today, nor writing deadlines, edits due, blog posts to think up. It’s just me, January, and rain. I could and possibly should write a poem about this. Or I could build a fire instead, eat some soup, and take a nap, thereby bowing at the altar of my inner California black bear (Ursus americanus californiensis).

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Lifestyle

Molly Fisk: Contrails & Happiness

By Molly Fisk
It's January. I'm still single. Wrinkles still crowd onto my face like shipwreck-survivors into a lifeboat. My bank account, as usual, nestles comfortably in the low three figures. The weather's unseasonably warm and white lines criss-cross the winter sky. Nothing in my life has changed. Except I'm happy. And everything's changed.
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Lifestyle

Molly Fisk: Surprise Me

By Molly Fisk
After the first really fallow year of my writing life, I'm trying to coax myself into producing more poems. Last year someone hugely important to me died. The next three poems I wrote were about his death, and then I just stopped cold.
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