The Hen House

In winter, we are always counting. Six snowstorms, two with ice, four without. Two nights without power; three days without school. One early dismissal; one delay. Two pairs of snow…

For years, just moments before I expected Chris to walk in the door each evening I would set to work perfecting our woodstove fire. I would stack the firebox, sweep…

There is a new calf up the road. The girls and Chris have met her; they have seen her sleeping on a bed of hay in the tiny barn. Grace…

She is holding a book called In Our Mothers’ House by Patricia Polacco. I bought the book last year because I loved the title and I love Patricia Polacco and…

Tomorrow Grace will turn six. Six years ago today I was waiting for my life to begin, although the life I was waiting for and the life I got turned…

I can’t get pregnant. We try and we try and we try but it does not take. It simply will not work. There are only a few days in every…

When Grace was a toddler, Chris and I were asked to be part of a panel discussion about gay marriage at a local college. We were one of several couples,…

In March I had surgery on my foot. It was nothing surgery, doctor’s office surgery, bring your five-year-old and have her watch Madeline on your iPhone surgery. But then I…

When I was 38 weeks pregnant with our second baby, Grace and I spent a gray February morning sinking paperwhite narcissus bulbs into bowls filled with small stones. “When the…

I bought the skis on Craig’s List for $25. I would have paid more than $25; I would have paid full price even though Grace is only five years old…

At the pond’s edge we sit and fix the girls’ mittens and snap their coats up over their mouths. Their feet are too small for skates so we just tuck…