I was ging to write a short feature about a friend’s book I really love, and this is what happened.
If I asked, “Does this bring me joy” about every item in my home, a good 40-50% of the time my kids would end up in the recycling bin.
Make reading this one of your resolutions for the new year. If you don’t believe in resolutions, this is worth changing your mind.
“We have waged a war, or rather let a war be waged, against all of the animals we eat. This war is new and it has a name: factory farming.”
From the library of Heather B. Armstrong who will get to the book your publisher sent me, just give me a few years.
Even a post about autumnal comfort gets derailed. It’s okay, though. I saw my therapist and she said it’s good that I don’t own any weapons.
My child is at school which means she is not attached to my body which means I can take a moment to entertain myself.
“Last night I sat there struggling with the duty I have to destroy that innocent notion of hers, a notion born of my ignorance and my privilege, the privilege shared by so many other well-intentioned but naive white parents.”
A roundup of ideas for the father who probably isn’t 73 years old and would rather write a letter in his own blood than spend $45 on a pen.
Don’t blame me for all this light-hearted humming I’m doing. Blame Brené Brown. It’s all her fault and she needs to come clean.