Anna Blake I traipsed across Minnesota and North Dakota through factory farms and cemeteries this summer. Trying to link childhood memories with physical locations, only to find they were gone. The only building standing seventy years later was a big white barn. Is that how long it takes for things to become unrecognizable? The span of a … Read more
Coming home, the washboard road is as close to a drumroll as we’ll get. We are bleary-eyed and dog-tired. I have a class to lead in three hours. Jolene needs to zoom in her yard like an Indy car. Mister sweeps the farm for stray cats who might need to be barked at. And the … Read more
Road trips have a feeling of being unstuck anyway, but this trip to the land of my people was like slingshot time travel. Glancing at a cloud, a memory starts foggy. Wait for the shy, buried parts to emerge. But then all the memories explode straight at you. Both slow motion and at blinding speed. … Read more
Mister is barking in a steady rhythm. His metronome bark. Consider it a warning siren. He knows. There is a look Mister gets when I grab Jolene’s leash and give him a chewy. And there is a look he gets when I head out the back door with an armful of clothes. Mister knows a … Read more
Mister has a big all-day chewy and doesn’t even come out to wave goodbye. Mister would like you to know that he is a dog that knows things that are not visible. Don’t hurry back on my account, he says. Half of my heart stays with him. I would prefer to hide out on our … Read more
I got the clean go-to-town coat off the hook and Jolene started the truck dance. Mister had a look of worry with a dollop of dread on top. It’s his normal look. I told Jolene, not this time. The words fell flat; she was in utter disbelief. Mister nurses his disappointment, but Jolene doesn’t give … Read more
The week started with a needle in my forehead. You just knew it was going to improve. Then each day had hours of that kind of coolish-warm spring air. At our altitude, there’s nearly no oxygen, so it’s easy to remember to breathe it in. I had no extra work-work, so I spent time working … Read more
We’re on the road at 6:30 AM on a Sunday, and the first vehicle we passed was a horse trailer. I don’t recognize the driver, but I have been her, so I wave. Then I realized that sitting in a truck doesn’t make me look like we’re compatriots, but we are both off for similar … Read more
Mister would like you to know that we had a record two naps in one day. We were staying at the farm where Jolene was born. Call it Lamb Nation; nine newborns frolic in the field close to where we’re camped. Ignoring them, Mister appreciates the Rollin’ Rancho, our human-sized A-frame crate, as it offers … Read more
Last Thursday morning, we left for Texas as four bald eagles were circling high above the farm. I’ve never seen so many here. It’s April, and the pond is drying up. We have daily red flag warnings and fires. But also eagles. By the time we crossed into New Mexico, the vultures were circling, so … Read more