Suprise Me

I wore no wig, no makeup, no heels—just the dress, set off by the full beard I wore at the time. Read More

To be honest, I hate recycling. If the future of the planet didn’t depend on it, you can be sure I wouldn’t do it. It’s so complicated and way more work than just throwing stuff out. But since I have grandchildren who I am hoping will be able to breathe the air, survive the increased… Read More

Daylight Savings Time starts tomorrow. Harumph! I expect that I will feel grumpy and out of sorts for the next week. Read More

Vegas was totally different in the early ’60s. With 100,000 residents it had one twentieth the population of today, and while it had a certain tacky sheen it hadn’t approached the aggressively grotesque grandiosity you see today. It was quieter, more modest, less inclined to force itself down your throat. Read More

As an adult, I have given public final farewells for three important people in my life: my father, my mother, and my ex-husband. Read More

How we started our most cherished Christmas tradition! Read More

Anne She was a quiet girl, soft of face soft of movement, and her long brown hair often curtained her eyes so as to be soft of broadcasting feelings. Both of us were novitiates to the  buzzing tech-worshipping work world where we met. We hit it off, mostly  because at age 18,   we knew… Read More

Hair. Always been a big deal to me. I accomplished hormonal lift-off at 11 and immediately shifted into hyper hair-awareness mode. I simultaneously stumbled upon my first rebel role model — James Dean. I became fascinated with him, not for his work in film — Who knew what a method actor was? — but for… Read More

Being pretty much the academic nerd, I’m reasonably certain that no one in my mid 1960s  high school life looked to me for fashion statements.  Moreover, I wasn’t allowed to clothes shop with any frequency, and when I did, I got little guidance from my disinterested mother. But I did know about and covet Villager… Read More

”And that’s the way it is.” I’ve written about my family dinners as we listened to Lowell Thomas reading the day’s news on our Emerson radio,  and how to my childish sensibility it seemed he was speaking directly to us in the intimacy of our kitchen.   (See Kitchen Radio) Years later on my parents’ black… Read More