When you’re in the gymnasium during “Career Day” take a closer look. Things are different these days.
The same folding tables and chairs with earnest recruiters from the Fire Department and Police Department are still there, …

It was about the time that I began critiquing the fashion choices of our fellow passengers in the Long Beach Airport that I realized I may have reached my limit for what the brain could …

Have the elder races halted?
Do they droop and end their lesson, wearied over there beyond the seas?
We take up the task eternal, and the burden and the lesson, Pioneers! O pioneers!
Walt Whitman (1819–1892), “O …

My son and I went to New Orleans last January to visit his papa while he was working there for an extended period. The day before our flight, our son spiked with a fever of …

In this final chapter, our puppet dictator finds herself in a white trash nightmare of her own making…
The grass was bare. The shrubs scratched to the roots. The plants either eaten by chickens, or merely …

Our protagonist discovers that since the flock is absent a real rooster, she has become its proxy…
The flock was coming into maturity. They were almost full size at five months, so their enormous feet were …

When last we left our heroine, she was blindly and stupidly chasing after chicks through her Garden Paradise…
Our chicks. Four girls, built of feathers and destruction. They were, according to the flock hierarchy:
Mimi, a Cuckoo …

When last we left our story, Garbanzo the rooster had been placed in a new home by the hair of his wattles….
In the meantime, the chicks were growing. The brooder in the basement had been …

When my father was looking somewhat ghastly towards the beginning of his cancer adventure, it would have never occurred to me to take a picture of him. Not that photos are either bad or good–they …

Dad has a “Cancer Only” insurance policy. When the clinic submitted his biopsy for coverage, they didn’t pay because it wasn’t “cancer related.”
Apparently “biopsy” in insurance-speak means “went out for coffee and read the paper.”*
*They …

Dad and I went to see Baryshnikov last night. Other than me wearing a skirt as an homage to my first love (“girlish infatuation” not being nearly a strong enough description for my 12-year-old ardor), …

Boy, what a difference a little catheter makes. You’d think that it was the cancer bumming him out all those months, but after he got the catheter removed, it was as though Dad was one …

“Today you are you!
That is truer than true!
There is no one alive
who is you-er than you!
Shout loud, “I am lucky
to be what I am!

Thank goodness I’m not
just a clam or a ham
Or a dusty old jar …

On this eve before we go into the doctor’s office for Dad’s Round 2 with hormone therapy, I let his bi-annual equinox greeting speak for all of us. Greetings and good wishes.

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