The Places I Write: Slice of Life #sol18 21/31

I write at my dining room table, sitting too low in an armchair that’s big enough for me, the dog, and several cats. Frances curls in my lap for her morning nap. The back of the chair features a rotating selection of cat: maybe Zorro, maybe Panda, probably Smudge, often Toast. Roxy is wedged uncomfortably…

What’s In My Notebook: Slice of Life 1/31 #sol17

My son. Page after page trying to capture this personality, this conversation, this moment. Being a mom, parenting. Trauma. Learning and understanding. Researching. Healing. PTSD, secondary trauma, compassion fatigue. Myself. All the ways I get stuck in my own mind, fretting. Anxieties and angst. The gerbil on its wheel, going round and round. Coffee shops.…