Uncertainty: Or a Woman is a Woman, and then, Sometimes she is a Mother by Anna Prushinskaya

Chicago Literati

I walked the dog twice. At times, she limped. An arctic chill has settled. In the film about Antarctica, a husband and wife are wintering at the large American base. They have the usual conversation about the weather, whether it is cold or not. Of course it is cold, it is Antarctica, the wife says. Typical temperatures range between negative twenty and negative eighty. Yet the conversation persists. What the body can get used to, the husband concludes.

I walked five miles, all told. I am thirty-seven weeks pregnant, which is considered “late pre-term.” A baby born after this point is normal. I wake up and think, maybe today I will give birth. I go on the long walks, and I think, maybe this’ll do it.

I am feeling the feeling of precipice, of uncertainty. I am not a mother, but I am an “imminent mother-to-be” as a co-worker called…

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Weekly Photo Challenge: Intricate

Photography Journal Blog

The original post for this week’s photo challenge mentions a robin’s nest as a possible example of intricate.  I’m going to take that a step further and suggest that it is not only the nest that is intricate, but that those weeks of being an egg and hatchling are perilous and require a lot of intricate details go right for the young bird. Two years ago four of the five health hatches were taken away by a larger bird of prey, a simple example of what can go wrong for these young ones.  This year’s nest is doing well so far, four healthy hatches.  The nest is getting crowded as the birds are growing, here is the nest first thing this morning:

ISO 800 4mm f/2.7 1/200 ISO 800 4mm f/2.7 1/200

I have been taking a quick photo on the macro setting with my point and shoot every morning to get a…

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A Strange Kind of Homesickness


Going back to France this time was a grand project. A challenge. Something motivating and exciting.

I hadn’t felt that motivated and excited in a long time—probably not since the last time I was in France. Last summer and fall, whenever I talked about going back to France, I lit up. Besides fitting snugly into the new “plan” I’d outlined for myself, it just felt right.

I envisioned this séjour as a fresh start, the easy answer to the complex, convoluted, and downright tough questions I’ve been grappling with. About who I was versus who I am now, about what I really want out of life and how to get it.

But answers don’t come easily and fixes aren’t quick, no matter how drastically you change your life.

I made my drastic change. I moved to Paris—PARIS for goodness sake, one of the most beautiful cities in the world!—and I quickly fell into a funk.



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