In Which First Grandchild Coffee Becomes a House Rule
He walks in at 2:15 on a Wednesday and I know immediately that something is either very wrong or very right because this man is vibrating. Not literally. But also kind of literally. He's late...
The Hot Mess
Still tripping. Still forgiven. Still showing up.
Join our newsletter. No spam, unsubscribe anytime.
Latest Posts
In Which the Sugar Caddy Learns to Fly and I Learn to Be Still
5:47 AM, and I'm in the shop because my brain decided that sleep was optional and anxiety was mandatory, which is how I've ended up standing behind my own counter in the dark like some kind of...
In Which Grace Has Enough Hope to Share
Thursday. 3 PM. The bell rings. I don't have to look up anymore. I know the sound of Grace arriving the way I know the sound of my own heartbeat—steady, expected, a rhythm I've built part of my week...
In Which I Learn That Some Grief Is Too Big for Words
Lou's Barber Shop closes at 5 PM on weekdays. This is not negotiable. This is not flexible. This is as fixed as the tides, as certain as Walter's Tuesday drip coffee, as reliable as my ability to...
In Which Spring Arrives and So Does Everyone Else
The first warm day sneaks up on you in the northern Midwest. One day you're still wearing three layers and questioning every life choice that led you to a region where April can mean snow, and the...
In Which Milly Tells Me How Chicago Became a Diner
I've been coming to Milly's Diner for over a year, and I've never actually looked at the walls. This is embarrassing to admit, given that looking at things is theoretically one of the easier human...