by Laurie Wagner | Mar 24, 2020 | Blog
In 25 years a younger person – our children or a grandson or a niece – will turn to us and ask “What was it like when the virus came? What did people do? How did you live?” I’d want to tell them about the prom dress that my friend’s daughter ordered,...
by Laurie Wagner | Mar 23, 2020 | Blog
Well, the half and half is gone, but we have plenty of oat milk. And I just peeled the almost dead tangerine, and put half of it in front of my daughter, who is working from the kitchen table. A week ago I might have tossed that tangerine in the compost pile, but now...
by Laurie Wagner | Mar 16, 2020 | Blog
I hardly know what to say. I could tell you about the trip to Mexico for 13 people that I had to cancel last week – three days before we were set to leave – a trip that all of us were looking forward to, that we had made plans for and spent money on. I...
by Laurie Wagner | Feb 7, 2020 | Blog
This is for my daughter to who took a Lyft to the ferry – and the ferry to San Francisco and walked 15 minutes in the cold morning air to get to her job in the city today. For the way I just wrote out the word San Francisco, instead of SF – like I have...
by Laurie Wagner | Dec 2, 2019 | Blog
The man with the teeth coming out of his cheek scared me. So did the man with knobs for hands who sat cross legged on the ground, bobbing back and forth, chanting, balancing a cup of tea between his knobs. The burned man too, he scared me, the layers of exposed flesh,...
by Laurie Wagner | Nov 18, 2019 | Blog
I travel to forget where I am and to lose track of the days. To wake up to the sounds of dogs and doves, the conch shell at dawn, the chanting of monks coming from the monastery down the block. I travel for bells and incense, to watch the sun rise above an ancient...
