. . . reflecting on the practice of living

“Flowers scattering –
The water we thirst for
Far off, in the mist.”
― Kobayashi Issa


practice vb. to do an activity repeatedly to gain skill; to do something consistently, regularly n. the carrying out of what one believes or the work they do; the customary way of doing a thing

Welcome, friends, family, and perhaps a few passersby to my blogging adventure. It is a place where I will practice writing, and pay attention to the practice of living.

These pages will contain a mixture of reflections on current life, stories from my past, and stories from family history—some of them are excerpts from pieces that I had to cut from my memoir in progress. If you are interested in joining me, I’m happy to have your company.


New book from Kathleen Weaver Kurtz

Introductory text / where to purchase / more information.

Link to the book page.

Recent Posts

Paper Dolls

By kathiekurtz | January 15, 2022

Those of you who have read The Blistering Morning Mist might remember the story about my mother’s paper dolls, the ones I didn’t want to be divided. They still exist, undivided, after almost 100 years. The other day I was searching for something in a storage box of her things and came across them. Glancing…

Sitting on the Beam

By kathiekurtz | January 9, 2022

There is an image that comes to me when I am struggling, a way of picturing myself. I also used it with clients sometimes to help them picture how they were feeling about a task or a skill. Imagine a sturdy wooden beam stretching across a distance, a beam that is holding you up. It…

A Ritual of Friendship

By kathiekurtz | December 8, 2021

This is a season of the year crammed full of ritual—not just the churchy kind, although there is plenty of that, but many other customs and tradition that we perform faithfully and in the same way year after year. The little word the is often an indicator. We put up, not a tree, but the…

Just in case you need gift ideas

By kathiekurtz | November 14, 2021

I posted this on my book webpage, hoping that it would trigger an announcement to you all that I’d posted something new, but it didn’t, so here is the good news, at least if you were thinking of giving The Blistering Morning Mist as a gift to all your friends! Just in time for holiday…

I Can Hardly Talk

By kathiekurtz | October 27, 2021

I’ve been thinking about this thing we call voice. It may seem hackneyed and overworked these days, but its presence or lack continues to be a dynamic in the lives of many of us. I know I’ve come a long way, but I am far from completely confident. I still tell myself that what I…


By kathiekurtz | October 19, 2021

I have been mostly silent in terms of this blog for the past two months. It seems life had conspired to rush me from one kind of deadline to another, making me wonder whether I should retire from retirement in order to sit and put my feet up with a good book and a cup…


By kathiekurtz | August 11, 2021

As with any wait, this one has come to an end. My book is in print and I have received my first copy! It all happened much faster than I expected after I gave my final okay to the corrected, typeset version. Within days I received a picture of the cover . . . And…

A short note

By kathiekurtz | June 23, 2021

In the “good old days” it came as an exciting package in the mail. Now it is just one more email, once again one I was on the verge of deleting because it came from someone I don’t know. It was the title that caught my eye. I had just finished with a Zoom committee…

First Ventures

By kathiekurtz | May 26, 2021

It feels like a new era has begun. After seemingly endless months of masks and staying at home, life is beginning to open up again. In April we drove to Brooklyn to return a granddaughter who had spent five weeks with us in order to participate in EMU’s production of Shrek, A Musical. It was…


By kathiekurtz | April 19, 2021

The Mole had been working very hard all the morning, spring-cleaning his little home. First with brooms, then with dusters; then on ladders and steps and chairs, with a brush and a pail of whitewash; till he had dust in his throat and eyes, and splashes of whitewash all over his black fur, and an…