Deborah J. Brasket, writer and mother, posted thoughts on moving beyond motherhood and aging, words that lifted me out of Mondayness and made me feel good about this “in-between” stage of life.
I’m letting my hair grow out. Like a girl again. It’s past my shoulders already, still mostly brown with a few shimmers of light woven through. I don’t feel old. Few of us do, even while seeing the signs. When I was young, I always felt young. Too young. Young in a lost, vulnerable, deer-in-the-headlights […]
via Right, at Last, and Wide Open — Deborah J. Brasket
The New Quarterly contained a story with a line that made me hurl the magazine across the living room. However it also had a short story I didn’t see on first pass because it was on the page facing the cursed line. The cursed line said this: “Old-woman smell infiltrated the house, perfume and powder.” Who are these snotty scentless people who write so disparagingly of their elders? Never mind. The editors redeemed themselves as I shall explain. Continue reading