Seeds . . .

—From EF— As I write this, it’s Sunday, Dec 30, and this morning I bought baby chard plants at the farmers’ market. Then I bought seeds at the hardware store and a grow-lamp to assist with sprouting my own collard and kitty-grass starts. I’m nuts. Even though it’s...

Ley-lines . . .

—From EF— Today was our ritual picnic at the oceanside, and my dented rattly self is somewhat soothed. I haven’t had such a long slog of depression for a while, and I’m doing my best to reach for my old trusty strategies. I don’t medicate; I’ve battled successfully...

Gratitude . . .

—From EF— Between the toxic effluent from the Camp Fire and the toxic effluent from the Dumpster Fire I have been battling a difficult level of depression. The Sunday trip to the ocean helped, and coming home to an afternoon nap with purring cats aboard helped too....

Creaking Open a Door . . .

—From EF— It’s a damned heady experience to stand before a door you thought you’d already opened, then open it. The sudden flood of light is magnificent. I’ve just finished binge-reading Johann Hari’s Lost Connections, and I’m still giddy. It’s a close-up personal...