Tomorrow it will have been four weeks since Karsten died. Wednesday will be one month. Dates have been whizzing by me while I try to get back to my life, to the extent that that’s been possible, and I find here and there I’ve lost track of how man…
The human condition, I suppose, is to be capable of deep, thorough, feel-it-ache-in-your-bones love, and to be mortal anyway, and know you’ll someday lose it, one way or the other. It is, inevitably, not fair. My partner/husband/best friend/co-con…
Yes, each of these probably merits a post of its own, and my blog has been sorely neglected of late. But since I’m powering through my to do list, I’m giving them each a bullet point, and I may choose
Check out the pic of Karsten and our neighbor Jeff at Oktoberfest. Taken by the lovely and talented Sheila at A Blessed Mess.
You may have noticed I haven’t been posting in the last week. I didn’t want to make it too obvious when exactly we were going to be gone, but Karsten and I were in Paris for our 10th anniversary and
It’s hard not to be irritated with doctors in general right now. Let me back up for a second. Ever since the rat problem in the back yard and the flea infestation in the house and all the cat sicknesses,
I need to find a way to get one of these for Karsten.
Karsten’s profession of love to me this morning: “You’re the improbability closest to impossibility.” Tell me, who wouldn’t swoon?
John H over at Salem’s Lots has some pics from Oktoberfest up, and one of them is of Karsten in his “opium den,” a.k.a. the art studio in the basement. You can’t tell it’s an art studio from the picture
1. What did you do in 2005 that you’d never done before? Started taking anti-depressants. Got my first single-song contract. Somehow that combination seems very rock’n’roll, so I’ll leave it at that. 2. Did you keep your New Years’ resolutions,