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"I wish somebody would have told me then, these are the good ole days" Macklemore sang to me on the radio as I raced to the airport a few weeks ago.  Didn't really think too much about it until I was flying home a couple of days later. I had gone to visit my parents to look through old photos and I found this one of my Nona with her beautiful sister-in-law Norina and fun loving daughter Anita.  They’re all standing around Nona’s stove.  Anita is pouring something into a strainer and Norina is smiling, with her cigarette, (yup, this was the early 70's, folks), with her back to the wall where Nona’s phone with the long curly tail hung.  I remember well the mustardy gold striped wallpaper and all of the custom cabinetry that Nono had made for the home they had lived in for many decades. This photo is screenplay stuff.  Nice screenplay stuff, like, my family really didn’t seem too controversial?!?  We weren’t oil tycoons or mobsters.  In this photo we were just the

They really are like the beautiful song Barbra Streisand made famous.  Oh, Oh, mem'ries.... (insert music note emoticons here).  They may be beautiful and yet.  Misty, water colored mem'ries.  You know the words... I was given this unique piece of artwork a couple of years ago.  I had recently started dating her son and we had personally met, though she lived over a thousand miles away.  She mailed it to him to give to me.  Maybe I had impressed her as the type of someone who might like a piece of her personally hand made artwork?  A work of art that she had personally made. The first home my ex and I had purchased was a 700sf war box in West Seattle.  Back in those days we didn't take photos of ourselves and our surroundings every step we took.  Taking pictures happened when we remembered to bring the camera.  Carrying around your Nikon like a purse wasn't the norm. It was a cute little house that sat perched up off the street; there were 23 cracking concrete s

I could hear some darn dog barking in the neighborhood as I was working out in the garage one weekend afternoon.  Enjoying the light breeze and bright blue, sunny skies, I decided to take a break from the project I was working on to see where he was and what he was excited about!  As I was looking out the open door to the backyard, I happened to notice this little ant.  As crazy as it sounds, I forgot all about the dog and watched this little guy for a minute or three as he carried a little bug while climbing the door jam vertically.  I watched him as he wandered about in his travels... kinda going in a straight line... but, not really.  He wasn't bothered by the barking dog.. the weight of his treasure was his focus and it must have been mighty, I thought, because that was all he was concentrating on.  I loved his determination!  I got to wondering... who would he be sharing his treasure with and how would they celebrate his success when he arrived? We've had these

You could be tall or you could be slim.  You could be her or you could be him? You could be black or you could be blue.   Who would you be if You weren't You? You could be creepy or you could be clean. A Mexican mobster or African Queen? You could be nice or you could be mean. Your hair would be red or would it be green? Could you be sinister or would you be nice? Whose shoes would you wear if you were walking on ice? You could be Starsky and he could be Hutch? You could be scary and he would be Dutch? Mermaid, were wolf or haggy witch. What would happen if the spectrum were to switch? Ogre, wart hog or Peter Pan. Hollywood starlette or rich old man? "What happens now?" you might want to ask. Where are the clear cut answers to this task? Be the best you can be at all times! Be sure to listen and watch for the signs! Stay true to yourself, Be calm and cool Whoever you be Don't be a fool!

"I just love those days when I can help other people feel like SuperGirl!"  Maggie announced enthusiastically through the empty paper towel roll that had been saved in the pantry for such performances as this. "Ya?" Mom said, "tell me about it!" as she busily continued cooking dinner for the soon-to-be arriving others, "and grab me a few carrots out of the fridge, please." "Do you remember that girl, Jane, from my high school days?" Maggie said as she moved toward the fridge to help out. "Not sure, hon." Mom said as she was given the carrots and quickly moved to put them in the sink for a quick rinse. "She was the girl who had it all together, Mom" Maggie said, "she was just always so perfect and self assured." "Oh.  Okay" Mom said, "so what about her?" "Three years ago she'd gotten into this unfortunate skiing accident.  Blew out her knee along with tons of oth

I've been a bird house collector for a while now; my fascination with them unconsciously started about a decade ago when I moved into this house.  The previous owners had left a basic one perched on a worn out post on the west side of the yard.  Tucked in amongst a scraggly, winter-barren grove of scrub oak trees, the weathered remnants of Barn Red had caught my eye.   I have this painting of birds.   The painting made me pause when I saw it in the store as I started to think about the magpies that fly around at home.  Edgy & irritable - always so vocal and persistent.  The imagery flying around in my head was mesmerizing.  The rough & tough vibe of what I was seeing in the painting was drawing me into their world.  The only thing not visible in the painting was their home.  Where was their retreat? They probably (want to) be in a place that lets them be themselves.  A place where acceptance and understanding is the norm, where beauty lives, no matter what. 

I am one of those people who picks stuff up off the ground.  Pennies?  Sure!  But, I’m more interested in odd items that others would likely consider garbage.  On our recently traveled 2400 mile road trip, we had to stop a number of times (potty breaks are a definite must when traveling with four legged companions) and treasures were keenly discovered in a variety of elevations!  Colored glass fragments, bottle caps (rusty and not), a lock washer (thanks Russ!), black bullet cases, a chain link fence remnant (ya, really) etc, etc.  After seeing us return from hiking the nearby hills every morning with the dogs during our visit, the dear and delightful Doris bestowed unto me this particular cholla stick she had discovered on a camping trip about 15 years ago in Ajo, Arizona and reconfigured into a walking stick! I loved the shape of it as well as the fact that it is lightweight and flexible!  Desert living is a little foreign to me and the dreaded cholla plant is definitely

I’m not talking about the spoiled rotten kind on TV from New Jersey, Atlanta, New York, Alabama, Dallas, Las Vegas... or wherever they live.  I’ve never bothered to watch those programs.  Those housewives are spoiled, narcissistic women who do nothing but shop, argue, go to lunch and have their hair, boobs and nails done.  The housewives I’m cheering on are the ones who rarely exist anymore. The housewives I’m talking about are the ones some of us grew up with - the really amazing ones that we called Mom. She got married to her one and only love right out of high school.  During those first years, they discussed the possibility of children and he told her that he hadn’t grown up with Super Dad as a role model; his mom had worked as well and he wanted a different scenario for their children.  His hope was that she would stay at home and make sure the kids felt safe and taken care of.  She was happy and willing to take on that challenge. The housewife of lore was a woman who ma