What color is the dinosaur?

Playground koans, suffering, nonviolent communication, and Cheetos

Trampoline ballerina. Photo by me, for once!

Hello my lovely tried and true subscribers.

I had a whole bunch of profound and surprising realizations to bring to you, but I’ve forgotten them all after a week with a sick kid, mid-semester grading and bureaucratic madness, husband gone in New Orleans, and assignment deadlines, so instead you just get straight-up Saturday morning me coming at you to say: hi, I’m 42, and I still don’t understand anything.

Some moments of joy from the past month:

Elena and I bought a coloring page scroll from Ikea and have been spending long afternoons at her sunny desk painting it meticulously.

I planted mums and I love sitting on the back steps and watching them sparkle in that late afternoon autumn light.

Jorge went to New Orleans for a fellowship and came back so fierce with the desire to make art. He also bought a giant box of beignet mix so this has been our very healthy autumnal breakfast. His cooking repertoire has expanded to include: brisket tacos, spinach and artichoke dip, french toast, and beignets. I’ll take it.