Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • this life by water is initial. goes back generations to my grandmother's honeymoon. an otherwise not-so-romantic fishing trip north of Priest River though then and there my grandmother, Catherine, decided to buy a piece of land on a lake. while alone, perhaps knitting, she, like my Buddhist teacher imagines a world she won't be around to see, sets up a promise, comes back, builds a cabin she brings her children to now called 'The Pot Shop' and then another cabin my mother brings us to and then I bring my children to - a cabin where she and her husband Claude wrote 'North of the Narrow' and 'Panhandle Personalities' off-beat first person narratives of the folks that settled the area. this place she foresaw is off-the-grid, manned by storms, the delicacies of canoes, daisies my mother held in her wedding, berry pies, berry martinis, a less fancy word though, art works collected from friends. my grandfather puts in and maintains the water system. I earn quarters as a middle schooler hauling rocks to protect pipelines with my twin brother and sister. it's a good deal on a stormy day with no where to spend cash. learn forbearance. a love of being outside before settling into a book by the fire. learn also to knit, a certain un-beautiful acrylic patchwork afghan, my cousin makes a twin one. later on I see I can knit only two things. boat sweaters and afghans, derivatives of folk wisdom & subtle pride, colored, sure, practical and somewhat colorful against the lake, the raging lake, the sweet lake, the summer lake, the Scottish lake, a Nova Scotian sky line, a radio work, seldom found treasure like my living by water, enriched,emboldened by water. and the little baby girl Ida reminds me of this. the baby scarf we design for her, to be worn by her mother Cilla until she is of age, is made of almost identical colors of our boat sweaters reminding me of all this and that I need to make now one, two, three, four, fivesix boat sweaters, happily patterned, bright as stars for cousins, nieces, nephews who will write, no text, the next tale.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.