Hotter Than a Pepper Sprout

I'm learning that I may be more of a fan of anniversaries than the general population, and this year is a rather big one for anniversaries. On one hand, I think I just appreciate any excuse to celebrate, and being more conscious about the passing of time makes me feel slightly more in control. So gentle readers, be advised that this may be the first of many (more) posts about anniversaries and milestone in the life of Amy.  One of this year's big anniversaries is the 15th anniversary of my employment as a public librarian with "my" current library system. (According to Hallmark, traditional presents for this anniversary are crystal or watches). Oh my thoughts about being a librarian are myriad and complicated, and (I have realized through hard life lessons) any blog post about such needs to be scrupulously screened by my inner voice of reason (and most importantly, Chad). Let me start with all the stereotypes about librarians...I know every practitioner of every ca...

I've been thinking a lot lately about what I keep and what I do with it, and what I try to let go of. Not only did I have to do this recently with my work possessions (please see previous post for all the exciting details) but it's a central theme of the one-act "Bird Icon" that Chad and I are in the midst of re-booting. (Marketing alert: you can still come see this show this weekend in Cottage Grove and Forest Lake: http://minnesotaplaylist.com/performance/audience/daddy-issues-library-edition )  Claire pondering keep or toss in "Bird Icon" The play opens with my character, Claire, going through her recently deceased father's things and deciding what to keep or toss. Claire is much more on the ball about such matters than I am. My mom died fourteen years ago today, and I finally took some time this afternoon to go through a stockpile of her jewelry, thoughtfully saved for me by sister, Jenn. Although I didn't specifically remember or recog...

"After changes upon changes we are more or less the same." -- The Boxer by Paul Simon That lyric has stayed with me since I first heard it (well) over thirty years ago. I go back and forth on how accurate I think it is, but I've certainly kept one characteristic through all the many changes of my life: my inability to keep a neat and organized space. This is sometimes painfully and sometimes hilariously demonstrated by the disarray, clutter, and plain old mess of any environment I inhabit: my car, my house, and work space, whether it's an office, desk, or locker.  My out-of-control work space was an issue recently when I had to pack up my cube in preparation for new carpet installation. The angst was intensified by a deadline: we had to get our space cleared by 5:00 p.m. on a specified day. Of course I waited to the last day to work on this project because I apparently unconsciously crave self-inflicted drama. My cube, mid-packing. If you look closely you ...

What do you think people will say at your funeral? What do you want them to say? Or would you prefer they forgo words and express themselves through interpretive dance? Today I attended the funeral of a friend's stepdad. I got the impression he was an amazing and multifaceted man who led a long and complex life filled with love and service, and also a fair amount of difficulty. Not for the first time, it made me wish that I had known my dad more fully, not just as my dad, or my mom's nemesis, or as Goodtime Gordie, but as a unique and real person. Of course I wish I had known my mom better, too, but my dad was always more of an enigma.  If I have any advice to give to those whose parents are still living, it's not to love your parents or appreciate them more. Oh sure, if you can do that, that's awesome, but you probably are already loving and appreciating them as much as you can. But are you paying attention? Try to learn about them, and notice them, and see them no...