If you, like our family, are stuck at home and in need of something to read, I’ve added five of my books to Etsy for download at significantly reduced prices—$0.99 for poetry, $1.49 for novels. The five are: Perdition (horror), The Grasp of Time and Seal Breaker (new adult slipstream), Journey Through the Hinterland (poetry), and Aranya: Lessons from the Heart of the Forest (poetry).
If you’re an essential worker (e.g. medical field, grocery worker, pharmacist, postal worker, waste manager/processor, etc.), email me and I’ll send you a .pdf of one of these books for free, your choice.
Little Fox recently turned 7 and moved fully into 2nd grade work, which includes Beast Academy for math. They have challenging, engaging problems and teach math through comic books about monsters attending a school, hence the name. They provide both hard copy and online versions of their curriculum, so we bought the former and it included the latter.
Some of the problems stump him, but he enjoys it overall, and prefers to read the hard copy comics and complete problems online, otherwise he says the screen hurts his eyes.
We also recently received a gorgeous book called The Fox and the Star by Coralie Bickford-Smith as a gift from a friend. The art is eye-catching and its subtle story of uncertainty and loss hits home right now.
CW: pregnancy loss
In my last post, I mentioned how our lives were changing because my partner and I chose to try for another child in November and how quickly we conceived. Sadly, we will not be greeting that child into the world.
Despite good fetal development, a strong heartbeat at midwifery appointments, and being in the midst of the 2nd trimester, something went awry. At the anatomy ultrasound, there was no movement or pulse, despite having felt movement the night before. No one in the room expected the news. The doctor scheduled me for surgery a week later (mid-March) and we’ve been grieving as a family since.
Post-surgery, we received news that there had been no genetic anomaly—leaving us without answers as to what had happened—and were told the sex of the fetus.
My partner named her Tamora, a variation of Tamara, meaning “date palm.” He also discovered there were roses bearing her name, which we ordered and planted together in our garden. Though we were each saddened by the news in our own way, we’re working to heal and make a new path together.