All posts filed under: action

holding water | a raisin + a porpoise

holding water

My family is a land-locked bunch that is fond of the sound of lapping water and all the activities that go with it, so every summer (at least), we try to fling ourselves in the direction of some shoreline. For a few years we went to more or less the same place, which was the tippiest tip of Cape Cod, until we stopped doing that and started going every which way. Results have varied, as they will when we are involved. One year, we scored one of the most magnificent settings EVER—truly magical, a tiny, perfect, private, pine-forested island in the middle of a lake, which included a house so creepy, decrepit and awful as to defy description. I mean, I am a writer so I suppose I could describe it pretty accurately, but I kind of don’t want you to know that I lay my body down in such a place. I don’t mean to be cagey but in this regard, I’d like you to continue to labor under some kind of delusion about my …


nothing to eat

I don’t have anything for you to eat. I’m stating this because I usually do offer up something for you to try in your kitchen, and this post won’t be providing that. But I am also trying to get into a relationship with that statement as one that mothers all over the world have to say to their children.  Not the kind of relationship where I reflexively recoil from imagining what it must feel like to have nothing to feed your family, and then I say that I can’t imagine it. The kind where I try to really do it. Famine is about to be declared in Nigeria. I wish I could say that I know this because the media is doing a bang-up job reporting it, but I know it because my niece, who has had a lifelong engagement with advocacy for Africa (raising her voice for the people of Sudan, Uganda and Rwanda since she was in grade school) is now working for an aid organization in Washington and has seen the reports. …