cultivating the beautiful ordinary by sharing our tales and our tables
“Yes, Mrs. Bauman. Your husband called earlier and got you in with his appointment. We will see you in an hour.” My hand raises to my left cheek to comfort the ache as I smile, surprised I am not surprised by my husband’s provision for my tooth pain. Lately, I have been so frustrated with…
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I’m a Boomer. In my childhood home, our telephone hung on the kitchen wall, and every time it rang, shouts of “I’ve got it!” resounded throughout the house as my brothers and I raced from every direction to get there first. Competition often provided the tension that held us close to one another: who got…
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I want to return, but I am afraid. I left without much explanation. It felt complicated. My desire for connection was replaced with a desperate need for protection. Isolation felt like the only option, and now it feels like I have been gone for too long. I find myself repeatedly rehearsing my re-entry speech, but…
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“Hip, hip, hooray, Mommy saves the day!” My four-year-old daughter runs through the living room, quite literally singing my praises. I laugh as she jumps up and down, her socks pulled up high on her ankles. I had helped put those socks on, a task that, on this particular morning, had been frustrating my incredibly…
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Once upon a time there was a girl named Sunny. They called her Sunny because of her golden hair and smile and the way she would light up a room when she entered. And the light emanated from her, and the light was good. Sunny’s mother was named Gilda. Gilda had discovered when she was…
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Dear Queen, I see you in your garden there In your yard, in the back. Tucked. and hidden. Where the chickens roam free And the dirt brings you close To the grief in your eyes. Broken and bruised. Battered and beat.
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For the month of March the women of Red Tent Living will be considering the archetype of The Queen. Join us by reading and by hosting your own Red Tent Dinner and inviting women to your table to share their stories prompted by this theme.
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For the month of November the women of Red Tent Living will be considering the theme: The Mother. We hope you will join us by reading our selected essays, or by hosting your own gathering to share stories provoked by this theme. You can find more information about hosting a Red Tent Dinner by clicking…
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My heart races as I descend the stones thrown recklessly at the edges of the earth. These coastal boulders are mighty as they break the waves, which threaten to wash away the trees and green shrubs, homes of bears and cougars. Whoever tossed them aside was very angry.
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Snooze, snooze, snooze. One week ago, four days ago, thirteen hours ago. As the dampened street reflects an early Saturday morning shower, my email inbox sprinkles out reminders set from the past week. A musical playlist, a “must read again,” and “your story doesn’t end here” (thank you, God!) fill the subject lines of emails,…
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