robynlynnwriter

  Mom-Tattoo, Artist:Donovan Lynn.  A version of this was published in Minerva Rising in conjunction with their theme of “Mother”.  Please visit Minerva Rising and support women’s literary voices. *** I managed a ski shop a while back. It was a fun, laid-back, bro-talking industry – for a guy. But for a woman, it was an often sexist fight for recognition that wasn’t based on how tight my clothes…

A friend had an opportunity to read her writing aloud at our MFA residency.  She is well liked and outgoing and we were familiar with her story.  There should have been no surprises; it should have felt like a safe environment. She read an excerpt from her journal about the challenges of raising a daughter with autism when her voice began to quaver. We worried she wouldn’t be able to continue. …

Check out an excerpt from my nature essay "Wonder Land" published in SUGAR MULE - http://wp.me/pXGFb-cH

A version of this can be seen in issue  #41 of SUGAR MULE LITERARY MAGAZINE: WOMEN WRITING NATURE I am most at peace away from buildings and street noise, surrounded by lush evergreens. Only in the wilderness do I feel truly steady, my feet rooted in the ground. The trails and dirt roads of the Cascade Mountains have witnessed events large and small in my life, and over the years, the wilderness…

A work event turned healing.

Several months ago, I attended a gathering of tribes, environmental groups, and allies to discuss the importance of protecting water, salmon, and orcas. It was a great event, with many vital conversations rooted in the intersection of science and indigenous culture. At the start of a women’s panel discussion, a female tribal scientist began to speak, her voice and hands shaking as she looked out…

It’s solstice and the dark wraps around us as pinpricks of snow flutter lazily to the ground. It’s our first winter at Forest House and the silence of snow and trees, the work of getting wood, feeding the chickens, tending our home, is every bit as comforting as I dreamed it would be. I am healing here; dulling the memory-edges of city life, illness life, pandemic life. I am evolving again, into…

There's a lot to celebrate!

Secrets of Forest House revealed!

I have a confession to make. I have been far more judgey about houses than I’d like to admit, and it’s time to eat humble pie. I grew up with opinions about mobile homes and now I have one and I’m not sure how to be proud of it. I’m a Gen-Xer and mobile homes were gaining in popularity during my childhood – but mostly among the retirement age or in slightly shading trailer parts. My…

Week 1 at Forest House. It's been one week since we received keys and we've been at Forest House nearly every day - a couple hours in the morning before work, returning at 7:00pm to work until dark and eat dinner before heading back home.

Like any good story, this one begins with a "What the hell?" moment - the cosmic "just kidding" that might have been funny to the gods, but for us - not so much.

Like any good story, this one begins with a “What the hell?” moment – the cosmic “just kidding” that might have been funny to the gods, but for us – not so much. On a Friday morning in April, Neil and I made our 6th offer to purchase a house after a grueling nine month search that saw listing prices increase by over $200k in that time. Not only did listing prices go up, but an offer wouldn’t…

A few thoughts about an anniversary, and mountain climbing.

When you are in the mountains, you find out who you really are.  Any mistake I make could mean death. And when it comes to that moment, you want to survive. You want to live. I climb so I can live every moment of my life. Nimsdai Purja, 14 Peaks: Nothing is Impossible One year ago, I got rid of cancer. For the second time. I found out I had it on a Monday, saw the Oncologist on Wednesday. “When…

A sedan pulled into our driveway just I was about to get into my car.  I approached to see what they wanted, and the passenger window rolled down to reveal an elderly woman wearing an enormous grin and waving me over excitedly. She spoke with a thick accent even after decades of living in the United States, “I used to live here!” she chortled, but I already knew who she was – The Gardener. We…

The pictures on our walls are crooked. November was a tidal wave that crashed through our lives, its slow pull outward at the beginning ending in a rapid surge that moved everything in its path in December. Now it’s January, and we are grateful to be alive and together, sorting through the silt and deciding what to keep and what to get rid of. I am still tilting things back to center. —– The…

Strawberries and a Hose

By white middle-American standards, I don’t live in a “safe” neighborhood. There are at least two houses dealing drugs, prostitutes on the corner, gang tags on my fence. I pick up needles and condoms out of my flowerbeds. My car has been broken into so often I no longer lock it in hopes they will just go through it and leave. Once, a bullet hit the tree next to me while I was weeding my vegetable…

Thirty-plus years ago (YIKES!) my parents did something that changed the course of my life: they took me whitewater rafting. I grew up outdoors. My first hike up Mount Pilchuck was when I was too young to have, much less tie, my own hiking boots. I still remember the mildewy canvas smell of our army-green camp tent and my black and white kid-sized knapsack. It seems like every weekend of my…

A Day In The Life Of A Mom or Pride Month Isn’t All Rainbows

Today I spent the day at work where I create educational opportunities and events to encourage people to learn how climate change is relevant to them and what small steps they can take to reduce the damage their lifestyles inflict on the planet. This is the easiest thing I do in my life. Today I lied to my boss. I told her that I needed to miss a day of work to help with a medical appointment…

I have been leaving something out & it's too important to ignore. #parenting #transgender

  There are moments in parenting I assumed were inevitable – things I looked forward to as markers of being a mom, not just of my kid’s growth. Stuff like their first steps and first words, saying goodbye as I dropped them off at their first home away from me, and the opportunity to hang out as adults. But, “I am not (insert child’s name here). I am (insert opposite gender version of name here)”…