My family are Latinos, which means that even though the invitation to the Mongolian Barbeque says 6:30 PM (just thirty minutes before our one-year-old usually goes off to sleep), they begin to show well after 7:15 PM, except us, except us, since a few weeks earlier we were eating at the Italian place, to wish … Continue reading Italian chefs from Egypt. The peoples of Ecuador. Mean, helpless old ladies. Mongolian Barbeque. Even so.
Author: Carlos Antonio Delgado
My wife. My sons. And too much poop in the world.
This one son of mine is very beautiful, and this other son of mine is also very beautiful. The one son talks, runs, argues, falls, cries, tells stories, asks to be wiped after he poops. Two days ago he came up behind me and hugged me and said, Dad, you smell like poop. I told … Continue reading My wife. My sons. And too much poop in the world.
The real stuff that is out there wanting to be known. You know. Poetry. Landscapes. Persons.
Dante’s 14th century poem, The Divine Comedy, begins with a man “midway” through his life—and he’s walking down the road. In medieval Italy, in Florence (or, in Dante’s case at the time, just outside Florence), looking out his window, looking up at the stars every night, these hillsides and mountains provide him with just the … Continue reading The real stuff that is out there wanting to be known. You know. Poetry. Landscapes. Persons.
I pick up writing my novel again. I remind myself of what I wrote three years ago.
What does stillness have to do with the writing process? It turns out I own a collection of poems that, until very recently, I ignored. It cost me only fifty cents at a garage sale a few years ago, which is probably the only reason I bought it. I found it again last week while … Continue reading I pick up writing my novel again. I remind myself of what I wrote three years ago.
First story. Great plot. Thank you, Moses, John Milton, and this guy.
In an interview I came across once, the late David Foster Wallace said, I guess a big part of serious fiction's purpose is to give the reader, who like all of us is sort of marooned in her own skull, …imaginative access to other selves. Since an ineluctable part of being a human self is … Continue reading Storytelling
Peculiar Graces: Another post about the little things (by Allison)
Today was a long day for me. I'm in that period of pregnancy where I'm always tired. I literally feel drugged sometimes and can't keep my eyes open. It just so happens that Jonah is in a "fighting the nap stage" right now, to perfectly compliment my fatigue. Some days I just feel like giving … Continue reading Peculiar Graces: Another post about the little things (by Allison)
Peculiar Graces: Introducing, our baby! (by Allison)
Folks, the past 4 weeks for me have been pretty sick ones. This has been quite a surprise for me, because with Jonah you see, I wasn't hardly sick at all. But, man, even since that six week mark, I have been the typical nauseous, food averted, smell sensitive, roller coaster of emotions pregnant girl. … Continue reading Peculiar Graces: Introducing, our baby! (by Allison)
Peculiar Graces: New beginnings (by Allison)
This is a tad bit embarrassing, that we call this thing a blog and never, I mean never post on it. But, we can redeem ourselves, right? And what better reason do we have now that Jonah is a two and never a dull moment. I could write about what he is doing at any … Continue reading Peculiar Graces: New beginnings (by Allison)
Peculiar Graces: Chest
Friends, When I was younger and had no wife and no child, no girlfriend, no job, no prospects, I sometimes imagined what it would be like to be a dad. After lamenting for a little while, since being a dad seems to entail the rest of that list, I imagined that probably one of the … Continue reading Peculiar Graces: Chest