How Priests and Pitchforks are Helping Me Return
A few years ago, I lived in a sweet little cottage in rural America. Every spring, I’d spend hours cleaning up the yard and flower beds. One of the...
Author: Maria Mullet
From Noun to Verb
The Duty Free shop at Don Muang Airport will always carry a memory for me. We were walking past it, down toward gate 72 where our...
It’s All Beyond Me
Last week I was in front of a fan, sipping boba and planning for the next Zoom class I’d teach. Today I’m huddled under a blanket next to a...
I’ll Take Your Shoulders
Around Thanksgiving, I signed up to run a race in late January. Since I’ve abandoned the life of a solo runner (see that story here), I invited my friends...
Eeyore, Dungeons, and Always Rejoicing
A few years ago, Andrew Peterson released a song titled “Rejoice” and I didn’t like it. This is odd for a few reasons. Reason one:...
Under the Earth and By the Sea {The Grove: Thy Word}
I was standing in cave, somewhere deep under the midwestern US. Darkness so thick I could almost taste it. A hand an inch in front of my face would...
What the Halflings Knew All Along
Last year, I traveled to see friends for Christmas. The cool thing is, my travels cost me nary a penny. My boarding pass was a...
The Best and the Worst
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. Perhaps Charles Dickens was living his first Christmas abroad when he wrote those words....
You’re Speaking My Taste Buds
Food is a language of its own. I moved six hundred miles away from my hometown to go to college. For every reasonably-long holiday, I’d...
Running, Powder, and the Better Life
A few weeks ago, I got home from a long run, soaked in sweat. It's the kind of sweaty I didn’t know before I took up running in the...
