write 2020 (olw)
It’s strange times, which is probably the only thing that propelled me back to this space. You see, some people got ahold of my last post and splattered it over… Read more write 2020 (olw) →
forty-two.
Today, I am forty-two. I had to bump around the calculations to figure out the correct age. I lost track around 29. I know that seems cliche, but it wasn’t ever that way for me, like it is for some. I never worried about getting older. Maybe it was because my youth was forever secured when on my 21st birthday, the waiter handed me a kid’s menu. Maybe it’s because at 29 I felt like I finally became who I was made to be… A momma. A teacher. A writer.… Read more forty-two. →
recovery
I’ve never met anyone excited about the recovery process. In fact, it is rare to meet someone who will follow the doctor’s or physical therapist’s orders without reluctance. Most cheat.… Read more recovery →
Us as a Family of Five
This is us. I’m wondering when I’ll be able to post a family picture without feeling like I owe an explanation about being five. I supposed the explanation lies in a… Read more Us as a Family of Five →
right now
Right now I am reminded of the importance of collecting the ordinary stories of my life. Big meaning is always found in tiny moments. Right now I’m nearing the end… Read more right now →
favorite
This is my favorite Christmas picture. Time: Christmas eve, after all of the hubbub is finished for the day. Event: After opening the traditional Christmas even present of jammies +… Read more favorite →
Christmas Packages
I bought fancy wrapping paper after Christmas last year and stored it under my bed. I’ve never had fancy wrapping paper, mostly because the pragmatic part of me thinks it… Read more Christmas Packages →
The writer, the woman who made my breakfast sandwich, and the people around the campfire
I talked with a young writer this week because his teacher was exasperated. He’d been working on the same draft for weeks, and my best calculations revealed he wrote almost one line in his composition book per week. He was shy and embarrassed when we started talking. (He was talking with me as part of a demon lesson. There were 25 teachers in the room and I struck a deal with him that he could bolt from the conference at any time — no questions asked. Thankfully he hung in… Read more The writer, the woman who made my breakfast sandwich, and the people around the campfire →
Returning to My Roots
This picture of my backyard from earlier this week does not capture the beautiful weight of the moment. I stood on my deck and steadied my breathing. The rainbow bridged… Read more Returning to My Roots →
Ruth Ayres Writes 