Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of March 8, 2026
If you must suffer fools, do so with a vengeance.
Trip Report | Day 10: Springer, New Mexico
Pulled into Santa Fe Trail RV Park at seven, exactly when the lady on the phone had said they closed. Jumped out without my coat and ran up to try the office door. It was locked but there was a sign telling us where to park. It looked like something my mom would write if she were alive and ran an RV park.
Tuesday
Trash day. Last night's rain warped everything. Grass. Lawn chairs. I never know how it does.
Little pieces of tree and leaves are coming down out of the tops and spreading everywhere. Tiny dried up late-springtime bits covering the ground. Clods of them tearing by on this windy mid-morning when all else is quiet.
My sister saw the house with the eviction notice as we went through the old neighborhood. I remembered two kids, a dog, a trampoline, while we looked toward the empty open mailbox. Rain soaked tongue of its door lolling like an unwanted dog. If a house could be a loveless dog preparing to die.
Everything is wet.
Trump’s Wife Packing Luggage
I dreamt I was Donald Trump’s wife. We were traveling.
He basically kept me in the dark about our itinerary.
I didn’t know where we were going or when we were going.
I had an enormous amount of luggage.
Many little pieces that needed to be fitted into larger pieces.
And of course every place we went, I had to unpack the little pieces,
lots of jewelry and cosmetics, little jars and bottles and boxes.
...that when you spend time helping the truly broken—the ones who require more patience than seems reasonable—you walk away with two revelations: how much of yourself still works, and how vital the fragile thread of kindness is that holds people together.