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Category Archives: Ranch Life
Yesterday we could see a smudge of smoke along the horizon to the south, but the air on shore was relatively clear and fresh, and we went to the beach for a walk at low tide. It wasn’t just low … Continue reading
My dear friend Cornelia came very close to losing her house in the Thomas Fire this week. A sequence of text messages and pictures attests to the drama: fear and uncertainty, her husband’s vigilant presence, flames roaring in the hills … Continue reading
Yesterday I walked up the canyon wearing a cowboy hat and a breathing mask, toting a pink bag with a birthday present for our neighbor’s two-year-old daughter. There was something comical about it, but also surreal. The landscape glowed in … Continue reading
The Thomas Fire is raging to the south of us with no end in sight. The air is filled with smoke and ash, and we have friends who have been evacuated. These are anxious times. But until I have some … Continue reading
Last night I seriously slept, unassisted by even a flake of pharmaceutical. And I dreamed in two distinct installments. In one I crouched behind a rock and witnessed a mountain lion skulking around; in the other, I was adjusting the … Continue reading
While we were in Paris, we met up with a childhood friend of Miranda’s named Katie who is now a student here. These two were California ranch girls, and it’s so interesting to see what impressive young women they have … Continue reading
I’ve been sharing posts about our travels, drawing upon the notes I scribbled into my journal, and little by little, I’ll get through the trip. But on this bright October morning I want to write a few words about here … Continue reading
And who is that woman picking up feathers and broken bits of abalone shells and the thoughtlessly tossed plastic bottles that she will carry to the proper bin, futile though it is, annoyed and trying not to touch the mouths? … Continue reading
In the night we keep the windows open, and I can hear a train chuffing along, preceded by a ruckus of coyotes, and I’m hot and sweaty, my head filled with words and no sense. I wish I could either … Continue reading