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Putting down roots doesn’t always come easy

Photo by Sheila Brown on https://www.publicdomainpictures.net

A year after we moved into our dream house, we realized the previous owner’s gardening aspirations far surpassed our own. With our new tractor, we moved small boulders and ripped out acres of weed cloth. We dug out the old growth and pulled barrels full of weeds. When it was all done, we sat back on the porch swing and surveyed our work. Pride was mixed with exhaustion, a fair amount of sweat, and dried mud as we sat there taking full advantage of the sultry evening breeze.

As the sun fell lower in the sky, something magical began to…


It’s time to say goodbye again.

Photo by Jake Weirick on Unsplash

In 2006, I packed up everything I owned and loaded it into a truck. As I looked around the empty walls and walked the empty halls one more time, there was this sadness that felt like a leaded weight lodged directly in my heart. I knew at that moment that there would never be another kiss goodnight in that house, never another “I love you” spoken, never another round of cheers — at least not for us. And though I knew what I was leaving, I was excited about what was to come.

That’s the beauty of youth. In youth…


You think I don’t understand, but I do.

An older photo of a mother and her infant daughter.
An older photo of a mother and her infant daughter.
Photo by Author

You think I’m impatient, maybe petty or mean, and that I push too hard.

You think I don’t approve of your choices, of your path, of where and what you need to find happiness.

You think I don’t understand that while I’m still trying to squeeze in one more task that you just don’t have anything left to give.

But you’re wrong.

You don’t see the ugly tears I cry alone in my car after I leave with a curt goodbye, because to draw it out would break my heart even further.

You don’t hear my desperate prayers for patience…


I underestimated life with a Border Collie and that included her spay recovery.

A border collie in a corset, panties, and a surgical cone.
A border collie in a corset, panties, and a surgical cone.
Photo by Author

Ziggy, Ziggy, Ziggy.

Nothing is simple with this girl, I swear. She was spayed a week ago, and yet it feels like years have passed.

“Just keep her still and calm for 14 days,” the after-care paperwork read.

Our vet tech knew better. “She’s a border collie, it won’t be that simple.”

I packed her into the crate with her newly shaved and stitched parts and gathered the prescribed pain meds, sedatives, and more calming meds.

“You can double these if necessary,” the tech said, indicating the two calming medications.

“We will be fine,” I answered and instantly regretted my…


One woman escapes her glass prison.

Photo by Benjamin Wagner on Unsplash

Coco felt the car jerk and shudder beneath her feet. She tapped the brake gently and the vehicle lurched, coughed, and sputtered. A semi blew past at 75 miles per hour, sending the leaves and Coco’s small car to the side of the road. She shakily pulled the key from the ignition, her breath coming in shuddering gasps.

Just a few minutes. Just a few minutes and I’ll start the car, get back on the road, she thought. I just need a minute. Come on, Coco. Get your shit together.

She checked her watch and cursed under her breath. Coco…


I wished someone had given me this advice before I found my haters.

An anonymous person sits behind a computer screen.
An anonymous person sits behind a computer screen.
Photo by Bermix Studio on Unsplash

I’m a storyteller by nature. My children will tell you they are scarred by the ridiculous cautionary tales I made up over the years. Even Christmas trees can come to life and maim children who try to steam the tape off their presents before December 25, just ask them.

I tell you this so that you know I don’t discriminate against cryptozoological creatures, just the cowards that roam the internet simply to stir the pot, shame, and bully strangers. Yes, I’m talking about the non-rainbow toy, non-Grimm penned, hate-filled trolls who feed on the vulnerability of others.

I wish someone…


A past kindness changed my life and had an unexpected ripple effect.

A troubled nurse sits in contemplation.
A troubled nurse sits in contemplation.
Photo by Vladimir Fedotov on Unsplash

My daughter is a nurse, a fact of which I am immensely proud. At only 23, she has handled the children and the elderly, the fatally ill and the marginally injured alike, with expert care. Even though her profession began in the middle of a pandemic, she persevered by following protocols and minding the rules.

Part of the formula for her success is that she believes in those rules. She believes in order and structure. But I wonder what my little rule-follower would do for a patient outside of those carefully constructed margins? What would she do if, say, a…


Humor

Some stories are so ridiculous they can only be true.

A diner setting with a vinyl round booth.
A diner setting with a vinyl round booth.
Image by Dean Moriarty from Pixabay

I arrive at the restaurant to meet my friend, Bob, for lunch. He is late, so we immediately sit down and order our $3 “Chicks and Eggs” special with a couple of steaming cups of joe. Our chosen meeting place is ChickenHaus, a Garland staple, at least if the staple was rusted nearly in half and stained with a century of nicotine vapors. The old vinyl booths have cracks that could pinch a plug out of a bare thigh and the tables are so de-laminated that getting a splinter while enjoying an afternoon meal is a high probability. …


Three little words can mean so much between a parent and child.

Image by Anastacis Gepp on Pixabay

Three little words.

“I hate you,” she screamed in anger, a mere foot from my face.

I took a deep breath and counted to ten for both of our sakes. Truthfully, I could have counted to ten thousand and I’m not sure it would have made a difference.

My blood was boiling at her blatant disrespect. My heart was crushed under the weight of her words. Her hateful stare full of malice had me equally ready to slap it off her face or run crying to my room. …


When falling in love failed, I tried to disappear into the clouds instead.

A small plane flies overhead.
A small plane flies overhead.
Photo by Matthew Fournier on Unsplash

The breeze blows, whipping my dress around my calves. I stare up into the hazy afternoon sky, momentarily unaware of my surroundings. My head is in the clouds, my focus on the fluffy cumulus cotton interspersed with cerulean blue. A honk from a passing car alerts me that my dress has risen higher on a gust with my thighs flashing bright white in the dull afternoon. But I am above it all, lost in my own thoughts and sleeplessly dreaming.

The small plane leaves the county airfield rising into the distant blue to join the clouds. With a single thought…

Mindi Boston

Woman, mother, lover, writer. I was once a journalist, and freelance writer, but now I am retired early and writing for myself.

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