I am standing on a chair at my kitchen sink, all five foot four inches of me, reaching up to the top of the cabinet to the left of it. I can barely reach the plant that sits at the top, even when standing on the tips of my toes, and of course I can’t wait until my six foot six inch tall son is available to help me because my errand is urgent. I have already waited much too long to do this; my beloved purple striped zebrina plant needs to be repotted. …

Julie S. Paschold

From Nebraska, two degrees in Agronomy/Soil Science, poet and artist, gender fluid queer, mother, twin, manic depressive, sensory sensitivity, PTSD, resilient.

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