Category Archives: Memoir

Altering Course

Last week, a road runner came to visit. He sauntered about the deck, with now and then a little burst of flight, landing on the table, and an overturned chair, and the stucco wall that overlooks the orchard. He was … Continue reading

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Summer Nights Through Screened Windows

I write too much about people and memories. This morning, in the thick of the oddly tropical weather we’ve been having, I’ve decided to take a hiatus from brooding. I shall lazily meander here instead, even while my “daily action” … Continue reading

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FOMO Alert

Many years ago, while on the road to Chicago from Michigan’s upper peninsula, I looked up into the sky and glimpsed a rippling curtain of pale pinkish light, and it was the Aurora Borealis. It is therefore technically correct to … Continue reading

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Ties

When I was a little girl, about four or five years old, my father went away on a trip to Florida. I only vaguely understood the purpose of the trip, but it was related to the construction or remodeling of … Continue reading

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My Mother’s Books

In her better days, my mother loved books. Often she would remove them from the bookcase at the assisted living residence and carry them back into her room with her like stolen treasures. Whether or not she read them in … Continue reading

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On Looking At the Night Sky Without My Glasses

Wow. There’s a lot going on out there. Stars, satellites, maybe even a space station? I had gotten up to pee and was sitting on the toilet looking out the bathroom window. A blinking body of light was drifting by … Continue reading

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Risking Delight

Last night I went to sleep all on my own, without taking even a flake of Ambien, which lately has come to feel like an accomplishment, and my head rewarded me with a series of weird vivid dreams. In one … Continue reading

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Hiding, Seeking, Being Here

I pushed my bicycle up the dusty hill. Everything is harder these days, but I try to keep moving. In the distance there was a blur of bright color…the blue of a dress, a luminous streak of pale blonde hair. … Continue reading

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The Weight of Things

My friends Ming and David came out on Sunday for our annual New Year’s walk, only six months late. After coffee and croissants, we headed for the beach. The air was warm and humid, the shore was heaped with tangles … Continue reading

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The Neighborhood

The sky had the haze of not-too-distant fires, but the air was mercifully humid. I had stopped by for a Sunday morning visit with our friends who live up the hill. Little Virginia was wearing lavender pajamas and her hair … Continue reading

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