The play of morning light on the unlit tree and the master violinist behind it put a fine point on something I’ve been thinking about. Preparing for a Christmas gathering last week, I pulled out the red accordion file I’ve used for decades to store recipes and tasting notes. Too…
There are times when extreme loyalty to one season or place or endeavor in life prevents the ender that comes before the opener. My dear friend Susan has a lovely intuition for and acceptance of a season ending to make way for another. The fine artist Paula Plott Amos resisted…
A professional colleague posted this morning about the importance of learning/teaching soft skills. For that reason, this remains one of my favorite Juliet Rome Table Talk conversations (previously published May 18, 2022). Thank you, Christa, for sharing your gifts. My best balcony person played matchmaker for this Table Talk conversation…
I love Colorado. If J. and the altitude got along better, we might live there. I looked up through the skylight in the kitchen this morning to see the leaves on an old cottonwood tree more than 100 feet in the air shimmering like an aspen in the fall. They…
They skip along the upper rail of the Jenny Lind black-spindled DaVinci crib. Soft pine meets sore gums. Once more when I passed it this morning, I couldn’t bring myself to erase them with mother’s magic, a black Sharpie. They’re behind my why, the reason I love what I love…
It’s been more than two years since I lost that night of sleep over this. If I were to create a new blog category for posts, it would be seasons, because surely I somehow skipped into a new one that allowed a little bit of time for this … an…