all the hope i have
rests in this fateful ballot
(can hope win the vote?)
i walk my puppy,
fight weekend grocery store crowds,
and bake a cheesecake
before 10 a.m.,
i cook raspberry compote
and finish laundry
by noon, i’m ready
to begin this Sunday cleanse
and climb out of here
the city beckons
(no, no—the world beckons
for another chance)
our democracy
and the fate of our future
rest with how we vote
(even though it’s cracked,
my daughter’s birthday cheesecake
is one of many)
let this election
be one of many chances
to give us all hope
Tuesday win! I found this great recipe for one of my favorites, chicken marsala. That’s right, on a blah Tuesday night, I made chicken marsala!
Only instead of fettuccine, penne; instead of fresh thyme, dried thyme; instead of a purple shallot, a red onion; instead of heavy cream, evaporated milk; instead of chicken broth, vegetable broth; instead of mushrooms, artichoke hearts and cream of mushroom soup (40% less fat); and last but not least… instead of marsala wine, cooking wine mixed with Botabox Pinot Noir.
I know you’re jealous. It takes a really creative digger to be this good of a Tuesday night chef.
And instead of complaining, all the kids said they preferred this version instead of the original.
So instead of bitching, I’ll just enjoy these leftovers tomorrow.
So Steamboat didn’t happen. They closed I-70 right after we bought chains, and closed 285 right when we’d gathered our courage to leave.
The roads are atrocious, the highways are closed, and it took so much planning and money and sub plans and my entire car packed for six people… And it’s heartbreaking.
And our Airbnb hostess tried to argue with me about going the Walden route and not refunding me.
Bitch, I’m a Taurus, and I WILL spend an hour on hold and send links to every damn CDOT warning ever made to get my money back.
So now I have a snowy weekend with this snow-loving Pomapoo, my money, and my family safe at home.
I love you snow, but you’re kind of killing me right now. Time to get out the Nordic skis.
the mid-winter blues:
sometimes words stick in our teeth
unspittable pith
but i will teach them
the ‘t-h’ intricacies
of learning English
i will not give up
’cause they’ve crossed every border
to learn love’s language
we will never know
how sketchy the ride will be
until we arrive
in 2019
Bruce learned to ski from up high
into a new life
in 2019
a drain drained our resources
and worsened our debt
in 2019
my girls adjusted again
to life’s challenges
in 2019
we were given the rare chance
to make a difference
in 2019
we traveled through the country
searching for ourselves
in 2020
we’ll make a better life
everywhere we go
“Hiking? In the forest? No. Only to look for firewood to cook our food. Not for fun.”
“Yes, I’ve ‘visited’ Mexico. I was there for two months waiting for the coyote.”
“In a room the size of this kitchen there were forty of us. They gave us blankets just like that [pointing to tinfoil]. And when they had to wake someone up to deport them, they woke all of us. And they came in every fifteen minutes to wake someone.”
“Hermano, mira. Hay una lavandería aquí en la casa.”
“My 23-year-old brother wanted to come, but he can’t run fast enough.”
“He can’t run fast enough?”
“To get on the train. I saw so many… broken legs, arms. Even a body with its legs completely amputated. You have to be able to run.”
“I crossed the Rio Grande on a raft.”
“I’ve never seen a dishwasher. We had to wash our clothes and dishes by hand.”
“Eggs, beans, and rice for lunch and dinner. Coffee for breakfast.”
“My cousin bought me the plane ticket, the phone, everything. And the detention center had all of his information, so when I arrived at the airport, the police were waiting for him.”
“$250 here for strep antibiotics? In my country it’s free. Being sick here is a luxury I guess.”
I guess it is.
our preparations
for this moment of our lives
go beyond torrejas
beyond this sweet sauce,
this Christmas stocking for you,
beyond this moment
our preparations
go beyond twenty-two years
when we were babies
when we were in love
as only the young can be
and he promised me
what promise, you ask?
to open our home with love
when it is needed
from flat Dakota
emerges a river trail
hard on legs and kids
but water wins views
however it meanders
giving life to all
Step Write Up 