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growthesunshine

It’s a new year in the Jewish calendar after a y

It’s a new year in the Jewish calendar after a year in which it became increasingly harder to be a Jew no matter where we were. That was all the more reason to be grateful for the community in which I live, where hundreds of us gathered at Lake Michigan to walk with our chuppah (canopy) and shofarot (rams’ horns) to warmly welcome in the new year 5785 in public. A spectacular sunset held us all. May it be a year of peace for all people at war on earth. May it be a year that brings us closer in community with each other, locally and globally. May it be a year that soothes, smooths, and holds us.

My eldest grew inside me in the months after Septe

My eldest grew inside me in the months after September 11, 2001. She held my hand on the way home from school after the tragedy in Sandy Hook. She entered high school in 2016 and watched in horror as a man who bragged about sexual assault was elected president. Her senior year of high school ended abruptly in March 2020 when a pandemic swept the globe, canceling graduation, prom, and her 18th birthday party. When she was in college, the overturning of Roe V Wade took away her right to bodily autonomy in the state where she attended school. But look at that smile. Look. Look at my resilient daughter who is working hard every day educating 6 year olds, who writes postcards to voters with me, who believes that things can get better. Why is she smiling here? Because moments before I snapped this photo, my 22 year old daughter filled in her vote by mail ballot and chose Kamala Harris for President.

Better days are coming.

#HarrisWalz2024 #KamalaHarris #NotGoingBack

Time for more Breakfast with My Bodily Autonomy, t

Time for more Breakfast with My Bodily Autonomy, this time for the Louisiana women who did not have abortions. Yeah, that’s right: this one hurts even the anti-choice voters.

Elections. Have. Consequences. #abortionishealthcare

Just an excuse to mention that @jonasfriddlemusic

Just an excuse to mention that @jonasfriddlemusic just released a wonderful version of the traditional song “Little Birdie,” which (in its original form) features in my first novel, currently out on submission. I absolutely love Jonas’ version. If I let myself dream (and shouldn’t we?), I hear it in the imaginary end credits when protagonist Rebecca’s story becomes a movie.

Of course, this week of all weeks is a sad one for Rebecca’s wide-eyed vision of health care for women. Someone died in Georgia because their abortion ban kept doctors from treating her miscarriage. “A short time to stay here, and a long time to be gone” indeed, thanks to people who call themselves “pro-life.”

Amtrak to St. Paul and back for a nervous system r

Amtrak to St. Paul and back for a nervous system reset with someone who settles my soul. Sisters doing it for themselves, for ourselves, for the universal self.

Now onward.

On October 1, doctors in Louisiana maternity wards

On October 1, doctors in Louisiana maternity wards and emergency rooms will begin working with a hand tied behind their backs.

This is happening because of a new law in Louisiana declaring the drug misoprostol a Schedule IV controlled substance, the category of drugs that usually includes narcotics. Misoprostol, a medication designed for treating stomach ulcers and which also happens to be part of an at-home abortion pill regimen, is also commonly used to stop hemorrhage in women who have just given birth or who are miscarrying. It saves their lives when administered within minutes of a postpartum hemorrhage, which is why it has always been a crucial supply on emergency carts. As a controlled substance, it can no longer be stored there. There are procedures that must be followed to access a controlled substance - procedures that take time and paperwork, neither of which will pause the bleeding of a woman in an emergency.

In an article for the Louisiana Illuminator, a doctor learning about the law said, “Take it off the carts? That’s death. That’s a matter of life or death.”

This is the direct result of Republicans in power. This is why we cannot let politicians make medical decisions for us. Women are already losing their health, their fertility, and their lives to abortion bans. This is even worse.

Vote for our lives, people.

“No one’s gonna come by telling tansy not to g

“No one’s gonna come by telling tansy not to grow or women not to use it,” Margaret said.

When my imagination requested an herb for the story it nagged me to write, it refused to let up until I grew it. And once I grew it, I saw that it could become a reminder of everything for me: the inherently neutral stance of nature, the cleverness of humankind, the gifts of serendipity, and the power of that same imagination to build a world all from a seed the size of an eyelash.

#tansy #amwriting

How do you force yourself to remember people’s t

How do you force yourself to remember people’s thoughtfulness long after the moment in which it arrived?

You take some of the peaches your neighbor picked up for you when the farm truck was nearby, and you cook them a little with honey and lemon juice, run them through the blender, and then bake the purée on a silicone mat for 6 hours, giving you the freshest tasting fruit leather you’ve ever had.

You remember the co-op in the 80s where your mom let you pick out two pieces of fruit leather every time you went, and you always got peach. And you haven’t thought about that leather for decades but when you take a bite of the batch you made, still warm from the oven, you realize that co-op fruit leather was probably more expensive than any other snack your mom ever bought you, and it must have been a hard thing to say yes to, and now here it is again, because your neighbor thought of you.

That’s how you keep thoughtfulness around, long after the moment.

Thank you, @jodymiller4026.

Breakfast With My Bodily Autonomy, featuring herbs

Breakfast With My Bodily Autonomy, featuring herbs. Not those herbs. Other herbs. #AbortionIsHealthCare #ProChoice

Just leave me alone with my NYC bagel with tofu sc

Just leave me alone with my NYC bagel with tofu scallion cream cheese and sliced cucumber.🥯

Tansy and white yarrow, ungoverned still.

Tansy and white yarrow, ungoverned still.

Taking my calls outside so this guy can listen in.

Taking my calls outside so this guy can listen in. It’s the least I can do.

The NYT can fuck off with its recent political cov

The NYT can fuck off with its recent political coverage, but this was fun. An abiding source of hope for me is that I will never, ever run out of good books to read.

Just so we’re clear. #pittedcherries

Just so we’re clear. #pittedcherries

There is so much even the most extroverted among u

There is so much even the most extroverted among us cannot say online.

I lost my mom slowly over many years to Alzheimer’s Disease, then suddenly on June 21 to whatever comes next.

If I could climb into this photo, I would have so much to say to the two of us 47 years ago.

She was my mom. I will never complete the work of missing her.

But what do vegans EAT? Ok, I’m not a vegan (I

But what do vegans EAT?

Ok, I’m not a vegan (I eat eggs and honey), but I am a vegetarian with serious lactose intolerance. These are Trader Joe’s crumpets (vegan) with plant based butter (vegan) and homemade peach jam (vegan), thanks to @thepeachtruck. SUFFERING, I tell you. SUFFERING FROM MY LACK OF FOOD OPTIONS.

Dawn ritual with @scrappyaffirmations at nearly-th

Dawn ritual with @scrappyaffirmations at nearly-the-solstice. I was here, at/in the now.

Yes, we saw the sights in Edinburgh, but these are

Yes, we saw the sights in Edinburgh, but these are still three of my favorite photos: the morning light and lovely view from our AirBnB; the random chair in a field; the glorious session we stumbled on in a pub. For me, real life > castles.

The abbey in Bath, England, is full of profuse pra

The abbey in Bath, England, is full of profuse praise for the women buried or remembered there. I could have spent hours reading these engraved wall memorials. These are a few of my favorites written for women in the 1600s, 1700s, and 1800s. As the protagonist of my novel (currently on submission!) muses, the effort a family puts into remembering their lost loved ones says a great deal about their values. I like to think these families saw the women they remembered more fully than most. Well, except maybe the last one.

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