Marion Agnew

I had a bit of a reading slump in late June and early July. Innumerable stories come from these few keys. Amazing. Lately, I’ve encountered too many books featuring characters who are extremely unpleasant. They go through the book pretending to be funny or an undiscovered and overlooked genius, but they’re mostly just blaming their unhappiness on everyone else, specific family members, or the “crappy” place they live. I don’t mind an unlikable character! But these characters go beyond the unlikable people I have met (and have been). Sometimes the characters experience an underwhelming and unbelievable change of heart in the last twenty pages. Sometimes they don't even do that. Anyway, I finished three and didn’t finish one. I still dislike the idea of not finishing a book I start (tenacity! persistence! always something to learn!), but in this case I have no actual regrets. Life’s pretty short, as Ferris Buehler would remind us. It’s possible I’m not their ideal audience. Humour ca...

For several months, I've been keeping track of five things I'd like to remember from that month. Here's what came up in July.  One. Ginger ale actually tastes kind of … peppy. Peppery. Almost spicy. In fact … Gingery? I hadn’t noticed before, in all these years. I love it. Two. I like being able to learn new things (that are NOT like insurance, estate planning, getting bids for something etc.) at my “advanced” age. See ginger ale tastes gingery, above. Still getting to know smoked paprika, for example. Time, it passes. Make a wish. Three. Same “learning” category: I actually enjoy legumes, oat-based cereals, and getting more exercise, and good news: so does my cholesterol score. Four. From January through April and into May, I dream about the warm days in June (ha! that's a pipe dream, and the reason for the invention of the Spring Sweatshirt), July, and August. Here are the things I always forget: the tenacity of the smells of bug repellant and sunscreen, the fact ...

As I mentioned last month , sometimes it feels difficult to be a person on the internet in an age of war, climate catastrophe, and the erosion of democracy.  I've been working on various concrete projects, the kind with endings, and also the cycle of nurture that life requires. From refilling prescriptions and attending annual appointments to mowing and lopping and chainsawing. (Not enough cleaning, but that's normal for us.) Fortunately, I've also been able to spend time with other writers. Some are managing to keep creating new work; others aren't. Similarly, some of the "regular people" I also see worry more, while others manage those routines and projects as above.  I'm excited to be part of this event! Please come by! Regardless of where my acquaintances, friends, and family fall on the continuum of "can't do a thing" and "doing well, thanks," I'm glad to know. There's something reassuring about being in community. For ...

June included a trip to see family, which doesn't count for these five things. I doubt I forget that visit any time soon--it was lovely to spend time together.  So below is this month's list of five things from the month that are memorable to me. (This practice, which I started only in January, has been very interesting. I make notes all month and sometimes I return to the document and think, "that was only last week?" But maybe that's just how all of 2025 is gonna be.) One. White wine vinegar. It’s perfect for dressing greens in the summer. Balsamic is great too but sometimes you need a lighter option. I'm not sure what finally made me choose to buy some white wine vinegar, but I ran across a lentil salad recipe calling for red wine vinegar recently so today I added that to our pantry. Fun times ahead! A sunny morning near the summer solstice   Two. Antihistamines. Excellent additions to springtime. Thanks, science, for medicine!   Three. The quest...

It's a bit of a challenge to be a person online. And in general--in what we call "in real life"--too. Or so it feels these days, as the world becomes more violent.  Or perhaps I mean this: as the world's violence touches me more directly. That distinction, as well as the fact that the world's violence feels ever closer, gives me an opportunity to reflect and learn. Which I hope to continue to do--and here I would say "for the foreseeable future," except that the definition of "foreseeable future" has also changed.  Although I've foreseen many elements of today's present, back when those elements were what I thought were only dire distant future possibilities, I didn't actually believe that they'd become the present. Yet here we are. And  I'm happy to still be here, still learning.   

Here are five things I'd like to remember from May. One. A question I’ve asked myself this month: what’s the name of that warbler, that one there, the one that’s black and white? (It’s the Black and White Warbler.) Two. I’m still (as I was in January ) mulling over the impossibility of summing up a person’s life in an obituary or celebrating a person’s whole life in a funeral or memorial service. I’m also struck by how connected people are, how many interests they have, how many professional groups they can be part of (and then groups of retired professionals, like retired teacher organizations), spiritual groups, even. I don’t have a wise generalization to make about cultural changes, age groups, “kids today” or whatever. I’m just impressed, I guess, at all the ways people live their values and contribute to the world. Cloud and Island and Water and Leafing Trees Three. Scope creep/feature creep: maybe this isn’t exactly the same as what I want to remember, but it’s related. In...

The seasons are definitely changing now--May is undisputably spring instead of late winter--and so I've been looking back and looking ahead. It seems to be what I do when the external world changes visibly. What spring looks like, sometimes. It's always disheartening instructive to look at what I was n't able to complete in the previous season. And also, why that might be.  So this all sounds basic, BUT. I’m trying to remember that when I try something and it doesn’t work, I need to 1. Stop trying that and 2. Figure out why, if possible (sometimes there is no because), and 3. Use that info to try something else. I recognize that this is Basic Life Skillz 101. Logic. Problem-solving. Yet sometimes my first instinct is to try harder. Actually, that's my second instinct--my first is to ignore it all. THEN I try harder (muscling through, discipline, don't let myself off the hook, etc.). So this analysis is probably my third step. I guess it's good when I get there...