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Articles by Abe Lincoln
When Our Subconcious Takes the Wheel
A few weeks ago, on a rainy Sunday morning, my dog and I headed out for a quick walk before church. I do love the rain. Especially after a dry, slow-motion summer with smoky air and wildfires just over the mountain passes, after rainlessness has turned front lawns the color of camels (most Seattleites don’t water their lawns in the summertime), the rain helps me breathe. This morning’s rainy, concrete-colored sky suggested a return to rightness. I’m often seeking a return to rightness.
The Writer as Gift-Giver
There are thousands of things I’m not very good at. One is mahjong (too many rules and numbers!). Another is cooking seafood (such a fussy protein!). Still another is being nice to the Porsche-SUV-driving real estate developer who razed the humble 1950 home on the 5300-square-foot lot next door to our humble 1950, tiny-lotted home, the developer who is currently building THREE stupid homes, each with three stories, PLUS roof decks, that block our sun-hungry veggie garden and rob us of all privacy.
Getting Books Into Readers’ Hot Little Hands
I teach 8th grade English, and as soon as my school year ended, I launched myself into full-on Summer Sarah, or, as my husband likes to say, Summer Wife. Yes, I’m aware this seasonal nickname sounds gross, perhaps a combo of domestically alluring and vapidly submissive, but it’s purely ironic. Summer Wife is neither domestically productive nor come-hithery. Sure, she’s a little vapid, but it’s a situational vapidity rather than a permanent condition.
This Post is Not About Grief
It’s really not. This post is about driving south on I-5, from Bellingham, WA, toward my home in Seattle. It’s raining, and I’m crying. But I’m not crying because my dad died in December, December 16th to be exact, after a 26-month dogfight with a particularly nasty cancer. I’m crying because for five nights, I have been staying in an itty-bitty Airbnb. By myself. Writing. And now I must go home. So this post is about sadness, not grief.
I teach 8th grade English Language Arts at a weirdly-mathy middle school where, I suspect, at least 75% of my students believe English class should “just be an elective.” I know this because last year, one of my students announced, in the middle of class, “English class should just be an elective!” And a bunch of the other students nodded. To better ignore the sea of nodders, I covered my eyes with the back of my hand, swooned, and fainted all the way to the musty carpet.
Dressing Your Baby
In 2004, shortly after my daughter was born, we received a gift–a striped pink Ralph Lauren outfit. I laughed when I opened it. While she was only a wee newborn, and while I am definitely preppy-adjacent (i.e. the 80s definition of preppy), I sensed that she would never wear perfectly coordinated matchy-matchy Ralph Lauren ensembles made with madras, seersucker, and rugby-striped fabrics. There would be no little primary-colored polo guy emblem on her tops. No matching belts. No belts at all.
Night at the Museum Battle of the Smithsonian 2009 1080p BluRay x264-OFT
Night at the Museum Battle of the Smithsonian 2009 1080p BluRay x264-OFT [RR/NF] Size: 4.5GB mkv H264 (HIGH) / AC3 HD 1920x1080 All releases of "Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian" Night at the Museum: Battle of the Smithsonian (2009) Genre: Adventure | Comedy | Family Directed By: Shawn Levy Cast: Ben Stiller, Amy Adams, Owen Wilson MPAA Rate: PG Country: United States, Canada Original Language: English Storyline: Security guard Larry Daley infiltrates the Smithsonian Institution...
Hair Casting Call | Rockaway Theatre Company
EXPIRES: COMPANY DETAILS Rockaway Theatre Company Susan Jasper, Project Manager, Gabriel Mangano and Nicola DePierro-Nellen, Directors/Choreographers Jeffrey Arzberger, Music Director Member since Apr 29, 2014 PROJECT DESCRIPTION The American tribal love rock musical HAIR celebrates the sixties counterculture in all its barefoot, long-haired, bell-bottomed, beaded and fringed glory.
Avoiding Syntax Errors
October has never been my favorite month. It seems to stick around much longer than necessary, certainly much longer than the other eleven. It wears steel-toe boots and one of those oilskin raincoats worn by Australian cowboys (and, for some reason, my not-Australian high school boyfriend). October is surly and obstinate. It thinks it’s handsome, and in some lights it is. But it’s mean-handsome. Cruel handsome.
In Defense of Loitering
I grew up in a small town that contained the following highlights: Blockbuster Video, Loard’s Ice Cream, Nation’s Hamburgers, and Safeway. A library, a drug store, as well as a bookstore and community center. A beautiful old movie theater with a domed, celestial ceiling and lumpy velvet seats that smelled weird. That was about it. As teenagers, unless we hopped in the car and headed west, we had to work hard to find local entertainment.
Wishing for What We Need (Rather Than What We Want)
By Sarah Callender | July 6, 2023 | No Comments My daughter, who just graduated from high school, is a bit of a collector. A collector of things she no longer needs, uses, or wears. A collector of things that, in my mind, should be tossed, recycled, repurposed, and donated. But because she is not I, her bedroom, when left unchecked, takes on the beautiful properties of sedimentary rock, the layers of which reflect and mark certain eras, events, and phases of her life.
The Birth (and the Evolution) of Ideas
By Sarah Callender | May 4, 2023 | 22 Comments The world is a marvelous and mysterious place. It’s also fairly un-understandable, at least to me. String theory in physics is well beyond my understanding. I am equally baffled by the internet, by NFTs, by the resurgence of mom jeans and mullets. Oh, and what about the artistry of arachnids? I don’t understand how that level of precision is possible, or, how those filaments can be so sticky for a fly but not for a spider.
This mom is let down by Abe Lincoln
My boys are definitely history buffs. Throughout their young lives, they have been obsessed with different eras, geographies and world leaders. I would puff up with pride when my boys would drone on to strangers about their latest historical research and knowledge. “Did you know that this model of the Titanic is missing collapsible life boat A?” Then it occurred it me. My kids weren’t so much fascinated with regular history per se, they were gripped by the DISASTERS.
The Original Frank Shaw 1937 Los Angeles Mayoral Proclamation | eBay
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Abe Lincoln, water beds and break dancing - GulfCoastNewsToday.com: Opinion
The writer was certain Lincoln himself would be against such a waste of money. That was 1912 and the opinion of the writer can be forgiven for opposing the building of a monument that millions today would say occupies a sacred spot in the nation’s capital. You really can’t fault a fellow for getting caught up in the present moment and never imagining that somebody in 2015 would come across what he said and put it in the newspaper again! It’s like the limbo.
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