How Breakfast at a California Marie Callander’s Led to Santa Fe’s Coyote Cafe for Dinner
Still new to each other, I met Clif for breakfast at the local Marie Callander’s after buttoning up the final days of […]
Still new to each other, I met Clif for breakfast at the local Marie Callander’s after buttoning up the final days of […]
My skin turned scarlet, as people had already purchased the teeny-tiny print copy. I am sending them, free of charge, the corrected book.
The world changes of 2019 are no better than in 1967. There are leaders without compassion, ethics or foundational morality. Power and greed are the key words affiliated with a growing handful of leaders around the planet. Followers cheer these leaders on, while others cry foul. How does this happen? I suppose the answer lies somewhere within the same reasons for a 1967 power grab and the people who asked for nothing more than a warm home in the winter, a full pantry, and reasons to give gratitude each morning.
When I found the beautiful lady, still seductive and beautiful recumbent in her bed, a cantata of sweet moments that we shared in our youth played like a most harmonious acoustic song from long ago.
Her distinct perfume of a masterly crafted sweet wood and oil filled the space between us. My fingers itched to touch her and relive our sensuous operas of emotional expression — operas of great pleasure and pain.
And our planet’s modifier is in trouble. It’s a Neptune 911 crisis. What can we do to combat our ocean’s struggle with marine debris, hypoxia and acidification? The answers are found in university labs, recognized in world organizations, and ignored by feckless politicians and leaders.
Enough of this world and all of its crooks and liars crushing the light out from the morning headlines! A high octane call to take to the road fuels my inner nomad. Drape me in beads and hats. Pack my bags (minimally). Climb aboard Gilda, the 1997 VW EuroVan with 136,000 miles already journeyed
Featured in Vibrant Nation “Why do you feel compelled to tell everyone your story?” a friend asked after reading my memoir-in-progress posts. I was unsure if she thought me narcissistic. And when I do finish my story, readers will discover that I’m on the other end of narcissism. So I didn’t know if I should take offense or not. On the other hand, her question forced me to perform some dot connecting. As a young girl who bounced from the good life, […]
I want to rest knowing that my granddaughter can leave her electronic tools and digital noise and fall asleep to the tick, tock, tick, tock rhythm, punctuated on the hour and half hour with a mellow chime of solid brass.
Last November, I asked to review Judith Fein’s recently published book, The Spoon from Minkowitz. She forwarded the PDF copy with follow-up emails probing my thoughts about the book. “I’m captivated,” I emailed. “I was worried that only Jews would relate to the book,” Fein returned. No. This is a book for all cultures. The premise of Fein’s new book captured my curiosity for many reasons, and I greedily wanted to be among the first to read it. First. I hoped that […]
When I try to remember the best Christmas ever, it’s impossible. It’s not that I never had a best Christmas ever. But no single memory explodes into smiling snowflakes and flashing Christmas tree lights. The same goes with the worst Christmas ever. They exist somewhere in my memory like empty beer cans tossed under a sparcely decorated dead Christmas tree. Selective memories fade in time and prove that each moment is temporary. Some moments are like the whiff of a freshly peeled orange […]