Dying on Facebook

Between the continuing events in Japan, the breakdown of our own democracy, and the passing of Robert this morning, I can’t seem to get the spirit of the Irish excited enough to don the green or even hunt for a four-leaf clover.

From Tra-la to Troll

I peacefully slept the entire night, even though none of my favorite football teams played in Sunday’s Super Bowl, and then the team I picked from nothing more than the romance of past Super Bowl parties, lost.  This morning’s sun was bright and warm, a cherished event on this portion of the coast.  The coffee spouse brewed filled the air with that special aroma of deeply roasted coffee beans, so closely akin to the smell of a deep, rich chocolate. This, I []

Mama’s Got a Brand New Bag!

And in that brand new, itsy-bitsy black bag is a Flip—the product of my pre-holiday squawking, “Don’t get me any presents unless it can be read, watched, or swallowed.” The Flip qualified because it creates something I can watch and it won’t require a continuing visit by the dust removal fairy.

In A Word

I’m one of those New Year’s Eve revelers that admit my resolutions, like diets, fade with each new month of the New Year.

Santa Fe’s New Celebrity Chef

If I knew during Rahm’s skinny-cute-kid days that he’d have “people” I might have been nicer to him. I liked Rahm, but I had two lovely young teenage daughters that every overly hormonal boy in Santa Fe wanted to rub up against, making my incisors instinctively flash.