Author Archives: Tricia

Showing Up

How to explain my silence? I’d lost my voice. My excuses were: the election dismayed me, retail work during the crazy holiday season exhausted me. The longer I went without writing, the more I lost that muscle. Since my dear … Continue reading

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Caution – Danger Ahead

This is an excerpt from my memoir The Things We Cannot Change: From my window, rooftops are visible against a ribbon of the almost-green trees muting the incessant drone of the highway. Everything appears serene and lovely this early spring … Continue reading

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Dark Season

Just a week ago we set the clocks back an hour. I’m not crazy about this time switching. Sometimes I pass  all my hours in a windowless office with barely a glimpse of nature’s light. Those are sad days. The … Continue reading

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Bird Quarrels and Peace

Last weekend, ferocious winds blew in a taste of winter. Bright and sunny with cold gusts that turned the leaves inside out and off their branches. I took my cue to get my winter nest ready and washed and aired … Continue reading

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Crazy Lies

I lie to my dentist. Isn’t that crazy? My dentist asks ‘Problems with any of your teeth?’ while poking at fillings with the creepy metal hook. I can’t speak with someone’s hand in my mouth. I answer with a negative … Continue reading

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Back on the Bike

I bought these sweet wheels at a tag sale for $50 (with a basket!) in early summer and $30 for a very unflattering helmet. I wish I could tell you that I regularly made the 5 mile roundtrip to the … Continue reading

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Hedge

There are a million things to do around my house and corner lot. This summer Molly and I focused on cathartically clearing out decades of  debris from our basement and garage and ignored the ragged hedge. It went wild. Last … Continue reading

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Carving a Life

The other day I was visiting a friend with enviable wood piles stacked around her house. One stack in particular caught my eye. I took a few photos of the wood and asked my artist friends to help identify it. … Continue reading

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Out of Shape: A Ramble

My writing muscles have atrophied from lack of use. Here’s what happened today when I decided to sit down to blog: I’ll wash the dishes first. Is that a cloud? I better take the laundry off the line. Phew, it’s hot! … Continue reading

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A Silent Witness Is Not Enough

February in 1992 I was waiting to cross the road to my UN peacekeeping job in a very small Bosnian-Croat village when 3 men in uniforms pulled a lone man out of his old Yugo, pummeled him with their fists … Continue reading

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