Especially in sleep, I am never alone.

January 2010
entry #6


Dear Punkin, Upon waking from a fretful night's sleep, I came to the realization that both of the little people had sneaked into my sleeping quarters. The smaller of the two appeared to make a determined attempt to swallow it's own thumb, while the apparently "female" of the two held her mouth open wide. I can only assume it was her intention to eat me in her sleep. I was horrified at my thoughtlessness for not having the presence of mind to replenish my food-stuff supply for such occasions. When they sensed my impending stealthy escape, they raised their heads and began speaking their "language" at me until I was able to retreat to the kitchen and end the incessant rise and fall of their "words". I do not know how long the supplies will last. I hope to replenish them at some point in the day. If I am allowed a moment later, I will report again.

October 2009
entry #4


Punkin, I am anxiously awaiting your return this evening. The little people, in what I assume is an attempt to melt me or at least drive me out of my mind, have begun to spew the contents of their stomachs out of their mouths and onto my hands. Though I felt no pain, I cannot be certain of future reprocussions. I did feel a small amount of life leave my body as, what I believe to be some of the food I had thrown at their open mouths a few moments before, was hurled back at me with the force of a firehose. I am frightened, and am beginning to think there may not be enough vino in the world to sustain me until you are home.

Ah, the life of a traveler's wife.

My husband Nathan, is an entrepreneur. He reluctantly began his business after the birth of our first child, Zuzu Magnolia. For many years of our young lives we were traveling musicians. Nathan, the musician, and I, the traveling starry-eyed girl who'd follow him off a cliff if that's where he said he was going.
Becoming parents adds many wonderful aspects to the lives of a loving couple. Money isn't one of them. So, the traveling musician and his wife decided that staying put in a single location (preferably one with good schools) and going to work was a pretty good idea. Hence, Brown Audio/Visual, LLC.
Being the owner/operator of your own business means you work when you get it, and when you get it, you go where the work is. This, of course, also means that while the schedule of one parent is totally unpredictable, the schedule of the other must be written in stone. That's where I come in. I, the traveling musician's one time muse, suddenly morphed into the rock-solid stay-at-home mother.
Don't misunderstand, I do not complain one bit about being in my position. In fact, I absolutely relish spending almost all of my time with my children. Also, it doesn't hurt that I have the greatest support system in creation, my mother...but that's a story for another time.
The reason for this rambling introduction is so that you will understand one thing. I am a normal person who deals with the daily mundane in the best way I know how. I turn what is the reality of my life into an alternate universe where my true loves are alien and completely foreign to me. I write these "stories" in letter form to my husband (Punkin) when he is away. Don't worry...it's all in my head.



Letters to Punkin
June 2009
entry #1

Punkin, the short people that keep following me around.... I think they're multiplying. Two more showed up yesterday, stayed for a while, and asked me for things all day! Please! Come home!!! The only way to appease them seems to be throwing foodstuffs at their huge mouths and surrounding them with plastic loud things made in China. HELP!


July 2009
entry #2

Punkin, you have to come home as soon as possible!! All hell has broken out here! There are wild animals running rampant in the backyard, slinging seeds and jumping fences.... and those little people are back again!! They have now taken washable writing sticks and drawn an alien language all over the sidewalk out front. I can only assume it is some sort of signal to the "others" like them. They have fashioned a grid with what appears to be numbers written inside the boxes. They then stand in a semi circle and throw a single stone which lands on one of the numbers. Then, horrifyingly, they hop on one foot to pick up the stone they, themselves just discarded, and all the while they laugh out loud. I'm frightened!! I will try throwing food at them again.... it's like they're trying to tell me something! I just KNOW it!