Category Archives: Madrona Grove

Praise you like I should

However, the stoic in me remembers the Epictetus quote, “Another person will not hurt you without your cooperation. You are hurt the moment you believe yourself to be.” Reel it in baby, you got this.

Popping Tags for an Arm and Leg

In 2023, Goodwill and other thrift stores have slowly increased the price of their goods.* Some thrifty shoppers have noticed prices are comparable to Target and Walmart — similar prices for items like boxer shorts and coffee cups BUT USED! What the heck? What is this about? After reading up, it appears that there are three main reasons.

Poem: Four Corners of Ignorance

This Labor Day weekend I share a poem and remember one of the more unusual gigs I was offered. The parade was going to be canceled that year due to no organizer. A non-profit decided to organize it at the last moment. However, the regular, seasoned professional female host was out of the country. The city needed a female host— immediately. Could I messure up to the task?

Poem: Body of Wood

Here is another poem in my series “Unpublished”. These are poems that have never been published and I will probably never publish. They don’t appear to have what it takes for one reason or another. However, they are special to me. Perhaps marking a unique event or moment of realization.

Master of Disguise

At the same time, what I can only imagine is a full-out attack from the Nigerian scammer army, I began to get 6-8 chat requests from people unknown to me a day. Men, really good-looking, age-appropriate men attempted to chat me up. How nice. It must be my new night cream. A response gives the stranger access to your account. In other words, you are in a fortified castle and lowering the gate, inviting the enemy to come in for a sitdown and biscuits.

Eyes Open

One night after the open mic, we took note and began to speculate who these mysterious people could be.  What was their story? Did they know each other?  Were they once married?  My favorite theory was it was God, curious about the Bellingham Poetry scene. 

Poem: Long Kiss Goodbye

I see a fish on a platter
in the center of my table
garnished with onions, lemons
a cut of dill and salt
The first cut into its flakey flesh,
soft bones gently come out from hiding
between the sedimentary chunks
and gems of peppercorn