Caroline Stowell writing and reflections from Somewhere in the Middle...
I remember being taught that Chicago was the crossroads of America.
I recalled that recently while waiting for a freight train to pass.
I frequently wait for freight trains now.
And so I find myself somewhere in the middle..,
of the country,
of the issues,
and of life.
And I wonder where the train will go next.
A note to my realtor: My front door may be dated, but my home is full of family memories.
OR, as it appeared in print, “My Realtor Hates My Front Door”
Boston Globe Magazine Connections
Ten Steps to Kicking Publication Envy
The Cost of Healthcare: Will We Be Okay?
On Not Leaving My Writing at the Door
Why doctors like me are leaving medicine
The Other Journal
Back in junior high my best friend gave me a wicker basket full of pencils, legal pads, journals and books on "how to write”. It remains one of the best presents I have ever received. Writing was pushed to the side for many years as I trained to be a doctor and later left that path to stay at home with my four kids. Today though, I am thankful for this space where I can write and encourage community bonding through avenues like book club.