imperfect prose on thursdays: leaning on mary, the mother of Jesus

As of this month I have no one. My nanny, a girl of 18 who’s been coming since we took the boys in, has moved. Trent has started coaching, so the hours are long in the bleak of winter dark and the kids are so small that I bundle them all up in snow-pants and toques...

church closes food bank because it attracts poor people

yes, i am a disgruntled pastor’s daughter who grew up going to church every sunday and begrudging it. the hours spent listening to a father she didn’t know and the small talk afterwards (which i still dislike), the feigned interest in weather and health...