Mothering

From the Last Vestiges of America’s Middle Class

The free market, however, is, now, just another quaint and misused phrase funded by uber-billionaires that care-less for you, me, or the woman struggling to feed her family by making and selling popsicles after they took her job and sent it to Pakistan. She’s inconsequential, as are the men, women and children in Pakistan’s sweat factories earning poverty wages making stuff to sell in America and elsewhere.

The Christmas Queen’s Crown Rests

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 []

Hungry For The Warrior Woman

Also seen in SLO New Times & Santa Maria Sun On an August afternoon 36 years ago, my world flipped upside down.  I was 27 years old, mother to a 3-year-old and an 18-month-old.  My college career was on hold while my husband considered a graduate degree.  But that wasn’t going to happen because on this one August day a deadly accident terminated our dreams.  This accident killed my husband and I stood in the desert wind unsure how I would move forward []

Remodeling Dysfunction’s Murderous Stink

I grew up in dysfunction. I smell dysfunction’s stink in an instant. As an adult, some of the dysfunction from my childhood stuck. Several tragedies later, I recognized my behavior and how my behavior hurt others. My stinky self begged for a remodel. (It remains a work in progress.)

Behind a Murdered Man

I wasn’t shocked when a sheriff pulled into my driveway Sunday afternoon—a magnificent Sunday afternoon colored with a blue that only the Pacific Ocean can conjure underneath a cloudless sky. We just returned from an ocean bluffs walk where we showed off our beautiful and peaceful village to a LA visitor who arrived in the wee hours of the morning with our daughter and her boyfriend.  Pelicans soared overhead and we raced to get the best photo.  I kept my eye out []

Sit Back–Enjoy The Show–Nosh Venison Sliders

Author’s note:  This is a continuation of a series of blogs about the experience of watching my daughter, Chef Dakota Weiss,  make her way through Bravo TV’s Top Chef Texas, currently airing on Wednesday nights. Over 250 Los Angeles chefs and restaurant industry professionals swarmed the W, Westwood (where Dakota  is executive chef) this week for a red carpet roll out of Dine LA 2012.  What’s this to do with my daughter-on-Top-Chef series?  Read on. News cameras rolled and media photographers clicked []

429 Anti-Inflammatory Flames of Good

This floodgate of what I now call “sparks of light from the prism” amaze me. It is everywhere. I find good deeds in my newspaper’s letters to the editor, on Facebook, in books I’m given, and from random discoveries. A heightened awareness of good seems to foster more good. It also spins my Irish temper into an Irish toast. What would once have given me cause to jump all over some nincompoop now coerce me into smiles and humor.

It’s Trite, But Winning Top Chef Isn’t “Everything”

Author’s note:  This is a continuation of a series of blogs about the experience of watching my daughter, Chef Dakota Weiss,  make her way through Bravo TV’s Top Chef Texas, currently airing on Wednesday nights.  Check for updates at bottom of post. “June Gloom” also known as a “thick marine layer” that typically hangs over California’s coast during June, lasted most of the summer.  It was the kind of summer when I wore fleece instead of gauze while Dakota, in the hellish []

Top Chef Texas–Dakota’s Sauce Sinks and Gazpacho Flies

Ah, it’s holiday time in LA. Lit like drunken fireflies, 50-foot yachts cruise the harbors at night. Steaming sweet tamales delight the air above a Los Posadas procession on Olvera Street. Scientology Santa greets menorah lighting Santa in Hollywood. Ice skating hotel guests, in shorts and tank tops, slip, spin and slide on synthetic ice in the 70-degree sun over the pool at the W, Westwood.