At day’s end

My day ends with a train whistle and the sigh of a dog. I lie in my bed, said dog at my feet, both of us settling our weary bones into the comfort of no expectations, at least for the next few hours. Come sweet, blessed sleep. I hear the train and wonder where it…

Motherhood-induced attention deficit disorder

My father used to tell me, as his sixth daughter, that nothing good happens after midnight. This was wisdom, I’m sure, my sisters taught him and his way of enforcing a curfew that allowed my parents a decent night’s sleep. I’m starting to believe his little adage. A scene from my typical still-up-at-2-a.m.-why-can’t-I-fall asleep routine: Breathe….