Death, gardening, politics and pictures of my cat Leo

Now is the time for all good women to come to the aid of their country.

I will ease you into this slowly.

I am an investigative reporter. I live in New York City. I am married, I have a daughter, a stepson, a cat and a rare rooftop (in this town) where I garden.

Today it has been 9 months since my dad died. Since I lay with him in bed the last day. Since my heart broke.

This morning:

I am washing dishes. I have become expert at living through a blur. Not the one they talk about - not a post death of a loved one fugue (though more there later) - but through tears. Buckets. Watering-cans full.

It is the radishes.

I look at them floating in a clear glass bowl aside the sink. They are so tiny which is what I love about them. I think of my dad. I think of our last time planting a garden. That was in

The illustration above tells you nearly all you will ever need to know about me. Except the wheat.

Note:

• Squirrel

• Squash

• Tornadoes

• Sad

• Seeds

• Tree

• Circling birds

• Sadness continued

• Squirrel

In the mean time, tell you friends!