After The Rain: Where The Wild Plums Are

Mimsy and I went for a run in the rain on Labor Day. Of course. Why wouldn’t we? Since it was raining. Rain being almost always too good to be true—lately as rare as tanzanite around here (I looked it up; tanzanite is rarer than diamonds even, and beautiful, in transient, saturated hues…also, it’s found almost exclusively in Mount Kilimanjaro’s foothills, making it both rare and exotic). When Mimsy and I left, I slipped a camera under my jacket, wanting pictures of my favorite places being rained on, hoping the camera would be safe there. Mimsy slipped her tail under her belly, for similar reasons (although she’s no photographer, she adopted a pessimistic view of the whole running-in-the-rain-with-only- a-spotted-hide-for-cover concept). Before we’d even trotted a block, I had to return the camera to the foyer and start all over again with my reluctant puppy, dragging her behind me until her pitiful expression convinced me to carry her in my arms (nothing like a grateful dog’s tongue all over one’s face during a downpour). [continue reading…]

Summertime…And September Begins Tomorrow.

While summertime isn’t always easy around here, it is many warm, sweet things besides (and sometimes messy, sometimes hectic).   I wanted to write about all of them.  I meant to write about many more of them than I did.  After all, I had an entire summer in which to monologue. Or I thought I did.  My laptop’s hard drive is clogged with photos I’ve taken of gardens, salads,  summer fields.  Pumpkin blossoms, even a summer dress.  Plenty to muse over, ruminate about.  But time swept by  (though honestly, I didn’t even feel a breeze).  And now, it’s September tomorrow.  Fall really truly is almost here.   This afternoon, Frank and I sheltered under awnings and in galleries on Park City’s Main Street during a pre-September downpour/thunderstorm (we made several runs for it, but kept chickening out, stopping in the next closest doorway).  For the first time all summer, I was actually cold.  I kind of liked it.  And felt sort of…happy/sad, umbrella-less in the rain. Also, I gained a new appreciation for Twentieth Century Russian Impressionism. [continue reading…]

Of Wedding Dresses And Other Things

“As a writing man, I have always felt charged with the safekeeping of all unexpected items of worldly or unworldly enchantment, as though I might be held personally responsible if even a small one were to be lost.”
–E.B. White (who penned perfectly the conundrum behind my writer’s block conflict). [continue reading…]

Wedding Belle: Once Upon a Time, My Littlest Sister Got Married.

That was almost a week ago.  A busy, hectic, still not caught up week ago (school already?  yes indeedy.  And I protest).  The wedding ceremony was quiet and beautiful; the wedding party (and its belle) lovely, sweet, happy, slightly unruly, delicious, definitely unforgettable (which means memorable.  I could have just written memorable.  But I like unforgettable better.  The end.) [continue reading…]

This is just to say…I’m going on a little trip for a minute. A day, two, three, four. I’m trippin’.

Maybe I should google trippin’ before I say that’s what I’m doin’…. it could mean something embarrassing. But that would be par for the course. Consistent. And I need to be more consistent. Anyway. If you sometimes look for posts from me (dear friends), you’re probably already accustomed to my sporadic blogging. I’ve gone longer stretches on this blog before. I’m trying to be more mindful though of connections I have made. Honor them, by checking in and checking out.

(Pardon the picture discarded from my last post… it is the best I could come up with in a quick minute).  Sort of looks like trippin’…. ) [continue reading…]

The Ill Made Shoot, Or How Not to Behave In Front of a Camera
(After One of My Daughter’s Favorite Books, “The Ill Made Mute”, For No Other Reason Than It Rhymes And Sounds Cool)

Oh, oh, oh. The cleverness of me. I made a skirt. That  imprecisely but quite nicely fits, and has Forever and ever Amen…well, at least for the last seven years.  Seven being, as I’ve said before, both biblical and magical in its proportions. [continue reading…]

Retrospective: Beverly Had a Doll (Oil on Gessoed Board)

Years ago, Grandma asked me to paint this picture of her, taken early in the 1930’s when she was about four.  Grandma wanted to give the requested painting as a gift to her husband. [continue reading…]