The Red-tailed Hawk and the Toddler Fence

I am a bird lover. I feed the song birds and the finches. I have an ongoing water supply in the form of a fountain in my back yard. I’ve planted native plants for the hummingbirds. When I hike, I am thrilled to find a hawk feather to add to my hat. Twenty-odd years ago,… Continue reading The Red-tailed Hawk and the Toddler Fence

Best Laid Plans

(re-run) It was a Sunday. I was supposed to be going to a birthday party in Antioch, forty minutes away. But the day had become a comedy of errors. I had sweet-talked my son into installing my new printer and had lured him over with the promise of pizza for lunch. It took him longer… Continue reading Best Laid Plans

Skipping Work for Woodstock, 1969

In 1969 Max Yasgur’s pig farm in upstate New York sounded like the place to be for three days and three nights. Frank had been delivering the Woodstock tickets for weeks on Long Island at his job as a summer letter carrier for the U.S. Post Office. He and the other summer carriers knew it… Continue reading Skipping Work for Woodstock, 1969

No Christmas Tree for Me

Eight Christmases in this house and only two trees. Both were living, and they got planted in my yard. Guess what? My yard is full. That’s what happens when you get rid of your grass, fire your gardener, and watch volunteer trees grow on their own, self-planting trees with a little help from the wind… Continue reading No Christmas Tree for Me

Woodstock or Work?

In 1969 Max Yasgur’s pig farm in upstate New York sounded like the place to be for three days and three nights. Frank had been delivering the Woodstock tickets for weeks on Long Island at his job as a summer letter carrier for the U.S. Post Office. He and the other summer carriers knew it… Continue reading Woodstock or Work?

Don’t Judge a Book

Of all the pick-up lines I’ve ever heard, the best one came yesterday at the Walnut Creek Octoberfest. “Now those are some sensible shoes.” Yes, I had on one-inch black boots because I was dressed as a German beer garden maid, and they were the best shoes with white knee socks. “They’re good for dancing,”… Continue reading Don’t Judge a Book

Be Careful What You Wish For

I’ve lived in my little house for seven years and four months. The neighborhood is about 48 years old, and the trees that are here are huge. My pie-shaped lot is wide and shallow in the back.  Las Trampas Ridge is due west, beyond the freeway, but I could not see it because of the… Continue reading Be Careful What You Wish For