Becca Brin Manlove. Photo by Patina Photography
I’m a slow blogger, a fast kid-catcher (as Grandma Daycare), a carbon-sinner tree hugger, and a believer in both magic and science. I’ve lost two good men to heart attacks, my mom to Alzheimer’s, and my dad while he was living with me. So naturally, I’m blogging about gratitude. Also, writing essays about mistakes I make while celebrating life in northeastern Minnesota. My unpublished novel is about a crabby retired teacher who is either an earth angel in training or in the early stages of Alzheimer’s. My book, Hauling Water won some nice awards, including an IPPY. If you’re a Writer’s Agent, I could use your help.
All in canoeing grandmas
Kawishiwi, an Anishinaabeg word, is translated as “River Full of Beaver Houses.” I’ve been told there is another meaning that is closer to “a place where the spirits laugh.” When my first step into the river let me know my old Muk boots leaked, I remembered the second meaning.
