Letter from Home | A collection of essays originally written for Flagstaff Live!

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Summer of lazy days and iced coffee; On being “productive”

Summer of lazy days and iced coffee; On being “productive”

Posted by on Jul 25, 2019

Summer ends earlier for teachers than it does on the calendar, which means that I’m now in peak anxiety season. Not about teaching, which I love. I can hardly wait to get back to the classroom and meet the new students. Instead, I am anxiously thinking about the list of projects I had hoped to complete over the summer with “time off.” Looking at my list...

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The grass is always greener; On leaving Flagstaff (temporarily)

The grass is always greener; On leaving Flagstaff (temporarily)

Posted by on Jun 20, 2019

  I saw the advertisement around February, which is the month when I think I can’t possibly drive the same five miles of Flagstaff anymore: “Studio apartment for rent, Brooklyn.” I wouldn’t say I have many regrets in my life, but there is something like a feeling of absence. I wish I had lived in New York City when I was younger and been an intern...

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Birders and backwoods; On becoming outdoorsy

Birders and backwoods; On becoming outdoorsy

Posted by on May 16, 2019

The meeting starts as all of my meetings outside of familiar buildings start. Out in the wilds of a water tank parking lot somewhere in Kachina Village, I wonder two things: am I in the right spot? and, am I late? A short walk through the pine needle-covered parking area assures me there is no other “there” here and that I just have to be patient. I see a...

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Tragedy plus time; When it’s funny…later

Tragedy plus time; When it’s funny…later

Posted by on Apr 4, 2019

It was summer and, although my mother and I don’t remember exactly how old I was, I was old enough to read and old enough to know better. My mother held the box of effervescent denture tablets in one hand and, in the days before 911, dialed Poison Control on my grandmother’s rotary phone. I stood there stupidly in my grandmother’s kitchen, wondering how...

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Making pancakes, or not; The nostalgia of Saturday traditions

Making pancakes, or not; The nostalgia of Saturday traditions

Posted by on Feb 28, 2019

Most Saturday mornings start the same: I ask my husband who will make us pancakes for breakfast. Since the cats are not quite teenagers yet (and do not have opposable thumbs, nor are they tall enough to reach the stove), our options are limited. Sadly, I have yet to perfect making pancakes at high altitude. I never remember if it’s more flour, more milk or...

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