The wet wind blew As I feared it would, A black cat followed us Down to the sea.
Pepper and Poems
115 Articles
115
If you’re a fan of Anne Lamott, you know exactly why to pick up her latest book, Almost Everything: Notes on Hope. Lamott is predictable in the best kind of way, like an Egg McMuffin – warm and savory, delicious…
Valentine’s Day can be a little stressful. Expectations can be – you know – a little high. Even if you are a reasonable person.
I was lucky to find myself in Arizona last week while Nashville – and the Midwest – shivered. I felt guilty about it. Shouldn’t I be suffering along with my friends, my family, my dog? That lasted for a minute…
On my best days I feel more gratitude and less worry. Often those are the days I’ve puttered around my yard, a good dog not far away. She’s sniffing for the coyotes who have taken up residence in the thick…
Have you heard? Mary Oliver has died. The best beloved poet of our time? Yes. Maybe. But I’m sure – not only in my mind. She walked in beauty, like the night.
Sometimes you know exactly what lies ahead. ”Like on Christmas Eve,” Pepper said (watching me make sausage balls, licking her lips).
I was looking for a few last minute gifts when a small and lovely book of Christmas poems caught my eye. I love a book that fits in a pocket or in your purse.
On a cool autumn day at the beach, Pepper and I walked alongside huge grey boulders possibly left by giants. Pep was intrigued. Enchanted even. She sensed that something lay beyond them – just out of view.