Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes

Blog

  • This Is 55

    After My First Mountain  There is nothing to do except brace myself.  It’s so cold.  I’m so sick of this wind.  It isn’t just blowing—it howls, whistles, whooshes, then slaps the side of the… Read more

  • No More Divisions

    7:19 AM Monday morning, sky clear, pale blue. House still quiet, babies still asleep, on my second cup of coffee. The weekend went by smoothly, yes, it really did, it’s… Read more

  • Sunday Morning Pans

    7:40 AM. House still quiet. Foggy sky, soft breeze, soft like the trickling creek I walked by yesterday afternoon. I thought this is it, the soft damp ground, the smell… Read more

  • DaDa Here and Now- First of many writings about the Dadaists, and about my experience working towards the SFIAF with GAP. ( only words, no sneak peeks at the art!) 

    The San Francisco International Art Festival is about Five months away, it runs from May 19th to June 5th , 2016. The title of the show is “Dada Here and… Read more

  • Little Handprints 

    Little Handprints slip away, day by day, getting bigger, leaner. Did I take enough handprints? Have I captured enough of the baby stage? It’s almost over now, the baby stage.… Read more

  • Here I Am

    Here I am, I’m right here, awwww, a great sigh of relief. Second cup of coffee, not as good as the first, maybe I won’t drink it. House quiet, sky… Read more

  • Head on a swivel 

    It’s so peaceful right at this minute, almost 7:00am Wednesday morning. Chimes clang as the wind moves,  the sky scattered with blue and dark grey clouds. My house is quiet,… Read more

  • Time is a Commodity

    5:02pm, Jack and Fiona playing nice in the living room, until now, only lasted five minutes, now Jack says “mama” and cries a little. I go down, play cars for… Read more

  • Newts

    “N is for Newt” I read to Jack, out of our animal letter book.  “Remember the newt you saw today hiking?” “Newt” he says.  “Newts metamorphose through three distinct developmental… Read more

  • The Figure is Lost

    The figure. The figure is lost, it is lost as times. Disappearance. This figure, my figure, I get lost in a sea of dishes and dirty laundry.I Disappear   behind… Read more

  • Live and learn, that’s all we can do

    “Mmmmmmmmmmm, this is a DAMN good cup of coffee” it’s ten to seven Friday morning. My poor baby Jack has been coughing since I woke up. I have been hoping… Read more

Find us on:

Join the fun!

Stay updated with our latest recipes and other news by joining our newsletter