Come on In

I had this surreal experience today when listening to the Writing Class Radio podcast¬† wherein they highlighted my latest essay on Motherwell. You may have found your way to this little blog via the podcast or the essay. No matter how long you’ve been reading The Astronaut Wife, I thank you. I feel overwhelmingly humbled. […]

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Maybe This, is Wellness

I am not sure why I forget that summer is the ultimate season. Early summer, that is. Early summer, when the first fireflies appear. Early summer, when the lilies with their long stems and crimson petals begin to open. When days in Maryland can still feel breezy and mild. When the deer emerge from the […]

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Together

Hello Readers: I have been avoiding this blog lately. On purpose. And I am sorry if you feel led on. Like you were used to keeping up with me this way. Maybe it’s the only way “we” keep in touch anymore. Or maybe you were led here because you saw this blog in my bio […]

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The Truer Path

I have been playing hide and seek with writing about the real stuff of midlife for a few years now. Up to this point, I have mostly written about this stage with a mix of humor and a certain “Anne Lamott-ian” wisdom. (So, with the casual wit and style of an old hippy grandmother.) However, […]

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Suffering and Then Rebirth

Growing up in a Christian household within a Christian community within a Christian nation, Judaism was something “other,” something foreign, like the dark places in the basement that you condemned as evil.¬† I found this out early, when my kindergarten teacher asked if anyone was Jewish. I was perhaps the sole child in the room […]

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Free Fallin’, Captain Marvel Style

  I was a good girl. Loved my mama. Loved Jesus. And my boyfriend, too. (Never really crazy about Elvis, though.) But I digress. I’ve been living in my own Carol Danvers story, minus the alien abduction and the radical transition into a badass nuclear-energy fighting machine or some such. What I mean is, I’ve […]

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Cease, and then again Begin

I have this tendency, so I have been told, to ask my husband, Eric, if he can take the trash out, feed our son breakfast, or if he knows what time he’ll be home in the evening, before even saying “Good morning.” The sun is up, and my brain goes into chore mode, checking-off-list mode, […]

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