Larson, Chrissy
Chrissy Larson is an Early Childhood Environmental Educator for Portland Parks and Recreation in Portland, Ore. Chrissy writes from her little urban stuga (cabin) in Portland.
Från den lilla stugan: Sidelined (Spring/Summer 2012)
No one likes to be sidelined.
Från den lilla stugan: And you shall be called… (Fall/Winter 2012)
“Do you want to buy a ‘hottuh’?” Alder asked. “A what?” I questioned. “A hottuh,” Alder restated. “You know, you could buy it with your money bubbles.” I looked into my hand and gently scooted around the seven colored glass drops, again batting around the word “hottuh” in my head, trying to figure out what Alder was talking about. Five-year-old vowels and topics can often be mysterious, so I quickly debated a way to get more information without letting on that I had no idea what Alder was saying.
FRÅN DEN LILLA STUGAN: Found in translation (Spring/Summer 2013)
I WAS MOVED! That’s what the button says anyway. It hangs on my purple winter coat, and I am continuously surprised by how many people ask me about it. The weird thing is… it’s a lie.
Från den lilla stugan: Stubborn Love (Fall/Winter 2013)
“Stubborn Love, mom! Play Stubborn Love!” came Milla’s seven-year-old plea from the back seat. “It’s my favorite one!”
Från den lilla stugan: The Flicker’s secret (Spring/Summer 2014)
I pick up the phone and hear my friend on the other end. “So is it true that Flickers can lick their eyeballs?” I hesitate. “Ummm, not… no… not exactly!”
FRÅN DEN LILLA STUGAN: A box marked “SAVE!” (Fall/Winter 2014)
In early August I was told I needed to find a new place to live. I took the news with poise, but I cannot lie – I was pretty sad. Life in the little urban cabin (stuga) has enveloped me and helped define me for the last three and a half years.
Why am I? (Spring/Summer 2015)
When my eyes engaged, I was staring upstream. A second went by. I could see that the sun was bright, and a thousand rays of light were shimmering across the riffle of the river. The sky was a bright blue with a few clouds. Another second went by. My ears began to hear again. The soft roar of the river rolled towards my ear drum with a pulsing crescendo.
Mindful of the present (Fall/Winter 2015)
When I took Copper to the self-serve dog wash the most recent time, I got him ready to be washed by lifting him into the tub and connecting him to a short lead so he can’t jump out and run to freedom.