Category: memoir

Tunes, a Car, and 120 Miles To Go

Posted in Ace Hardware, Adirondack chairs, Bay Area, Beatles, California, catalytic converters, CD player, memoir, Monterey Bay, Speedo, thrift store, weedsLeave a comment

I visit my little beach house a couple times a a month. Mostly it’s so my potted plants don’t croak (thanks, Mr. Gopher), especially during this very dry winter, but it’s also a change of scenery and a chance to blow the cobwebs out of my head . . . . . . while driving… Continue reading Tunes, a Car, and 120 Miles To Go

Government Cheese and Pinto Beans

Posted in beans, dad, government, hospital, Iowa, January, memoir, mental health, moccasins, mom, secret, therapyLeave a comment

(re-run) I was nine or ten when our mom took me and my younger siblings downtown to a place to get some free food for poor people.  Our dad was out of work for six weeks. My mother was humiliated. We waited in line until it was our turn. As the worker handed Mom her… Continue reading Government Cheese and Pinto Beans

C is for Choices

Posted in attitude, babies, best, bucket list, California, cats, childhood, choices, chorus, climate change, dating, dogs, ex-boyfriend, expectations, friends, gender, high school, humor, memoir, relationships1 Comment

Life is a series of choices: what to eat for breakfast, what college to go to, which person to marry, whether to see the cup half full or half empty. It’s much easier to look back at life and say what choices were good or bad. Whatever they were, they got you to where you… Continue reading C is for Choices

A is for Air

Posted in air quality, attitude, best, birds, California, contractor, daughter, dogs, family, flowers, fresh air, friends, humor, lunch, memoir, mom, movie, neighborsLeave a comment

If a bluebird ski day is one without a cloud in the sky, then a dog-bird (bird-dog?) day is one where you can open all of your windows and air the doggy smell right out of your (my) house. All that stale winter air that has been recycling through my closed-up house during rain storm… Continue reading A is for Air

Bomb Shelter Blues

Posted in bomb shelter, Camp Fire Girl, Cold War, fall-out shelter, family, grandpa, memoir, OCD, radiationLeave a comment

(re-run) My childhood house on 69th Street in a suburb of Des Moines, Iowa, had a big bump in the backyard. It’s where my grandfather built a fall-out shelter that connected to our basement. It was during the Cold War, and thoughts of atomic bombs being dropped on us was enough to motivate him to… Continue reading Bomb Shelter Blues

Ungrateful Daisy Dog

Posted in cell phone, dog walks, dogs, gates, girlfriends, harness, Jack Russell terrier, leash, memoir, rescue, sickLeave a comment

(re-run) I was sick today, and my plans to walk the dogs with my girlfriend were dashed. To my surprise, she offered to walk them for me. “You can’t walk them together,” I said. “It’s too hard.” “That’s okay,” she said. “I’ll come walk each of them separately.” “Okay . .. ?” I had the… Continue reading Ungrateful Daisy Dog

Grandma’s Basement

Posted in basement, childhood, confidence, dungeon, grandma, grandpa, kindergarten, memoir, playpen, sarcasm, shame, teacher, wringer washerLeave a comment

(re-run) My grandpa and his dad built a house into the side of a hill. The main floor had three small bedrooms, a bathroom, a living room and stairs to the kitchen below. The kitchen looked out over the hill down to the creek and had windows and a back door with a screen door.… Continue reading Grandma’s Basement

Return to the Scene of the Crime

Posted in animal rescue, animals, beach, bench, California, carbon monoxide alarm, dogs, donations, fences, Good Will, hard boiled eggs, memoir, Monterey Bay, Nordstrom, repurposing, smoke, smoke alarms, thrift store, yard, yard workLeave a comment

(re-run) Two weeks ago, I tried to burn my house down.  I came home in time to turn off the burner under the hard-boiled eggs. Eight of them had become missiles and hung in pieces from every surface in the kitchen. Four of them turned black in the Teflon pan. When I put the key… Continue reading Return to the Scene of the Crime