Essays by Karen Anderson
For 30 years, writer Karen Anderson was a columnist for the Traverse City Record-Eagle. She's contributed weekly essays to Interlochen Public Radio since 2005. Listen for her on Fridays during Morning Edition at 6:32 and 8:32 a.m. Her essays are archived here.
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I set up a canvas chair in my back yard, but before I can turn around and sit down, my cat has leaped into it. I could remove Rosie, of course, but if you’re a pet owner you know what I do.
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My first year in college I met a fellow who was a couple years older... I was dazzled by his attention—so dazzled that I couldn’t see clearly, couldn’t see him at all
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My mother told me that when she was a little girl, there were times she couldn’t sleep at night. “I would lie in bed and imagine that somewhere in the world a single gas station was open,” she said.
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I recently came upon a list I gave my daughter in 1995 when she was 22 years old and leaving for a year in Vienna. A list called, “What I Know So Far.” A list of 30 things I believed and wanted to pass on to her.
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This time of year, the water is muddy with runoff from melting snow. My life feels the same, clogged with debris from the past, cloudy with regrets.
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My dentist’s office is diligent about reminding me of upcoming appointments... My hairdresser, on the other hand, never needs to remind me because I am eager to see her.