writing on palm leaf
Memoirs come from someplace deep inside us, private travel to an unknown land. I wrote a memoir when I became outraged concerning treatment of my best friend, who spent her life in mental institutions. My story grew into a lengthy saga. Continue reading “deep memoir” »
friendship
Lisa and I met in high school freshman PE and we clicked, so I went over to her house and met her parents, Charles and Dora, who made me feel like a movie star. Lisa’s house was an animal rescue shelter, and I loved meeting their dogs and cats, especially Pierre, the black standard poodle, and Bismark, their great dane. Continue reading “Darling Dora” »
Oh my God, I’m not perfect!
Yesterday on the phone, a friend confronted me about something I said to her in a recent conversation, and I’m glad she did. I previously made a flippant remark about something, and she didn’t like or understand where I was coming from. She had self-esteem, and checked out why I said it. Continue reading “callous indifference” »
in less than a month they fly away
My twenty four year-old son sent me a text photograph with a nest full of robin’s eggs. Then he sent a shot of the hatched robins in their nest. Ten days later, he watched the birds fly away. He watched the last bird fall from the nest and fly away, and observed that the nest was truly empty. Continue reading “eggs to flight” »
this is the plant that rules my county
Last year’s Butte fire changed more than the Calaveras landscape. Mountain Ranch was destroyed by fire, and commercial medical marijuana growers bought up burnt land for their billion dollar crops. Billion dollar crops in a county that can’t get out of the red. The new ordinances don’t look very promising for increasing revenue. It’s a trip to watch drastic changes occur in a matter of weeks.
Continue reading “Medical Marijuana rules Calaveras County” »
being with someone
Lindy’s house felt like vacation every seventh grade weekend, and kept me away from my family. She and I wore paisley print dresses and mock turtlenecks with semi-short skirts to our knees, hooked sandal toe nylons onto garterbelts, wore straight hair, imitated Cher, with thick “I got you Babe” bangs that squared off our faces, striving to look like that perfect blonde girl on Breck shampoo bottles. Continue reading “wack” »
I dreamed instead of learning math
Mrs. Fagg was my junior high home economics teacher and got me serious about sewing. I loved making gingham aprons for my mom and my grandma, and embroidered little designs on the pockets.
Our school chorus took a trip to Sacramento in a yellow bus and sang at a state level singing competition. I sang a solo opening of “Do Re Mi.” and we won a gold lapel pin with a design of the state. Continue reading “defining early priorities” »
doorknob kiss
Summer came and I sang nonstop because grass was so green and sky was so blue. My seventh grade best friend Lindy and I hung around Tiburon’s Angel Island ferry dock, at Main Street’s Penny Arcade behind Bird and Hound Clothing. Continue reading “kissing a doorknob” »
we get to live with this
Breathtaking mountains and affordable land make Calaveras County attractive to people like us, which is why we moved here thirteen years ago. West Point currently welcomes Dollar General, trying to revive our depressed town. Land’s purchased and zoned. Impending forces create a fantasy that the store will be the answer to our financial woes. The store is known for selling mostly candy and soda. Calaveras County is super poor, and needs revenue. Many residents love this new business. Not me. Continue reading “box store won’t fix our town” »
Stinson Beach is the most beautiful beach in the world
When my parents weren’t tanked, we had plenty of fun times growing up in Marin County back in the day. We drove up to the Russian River and canoed around, carried kites and hiked straight up from the house up into our hills, pulling apart rusty barbwire fences and squeezing in between, cutting through pastures on the way. My father loved hiking, and we made up funny songs as we walked, poems and skits for each other, gut busting laughs. It almost seemed to make up for unpredictable drunk ugly. Continue reading “fun times” »