going camping!

Me + guy + dog are going camping this weekend! We’re off to Death Valley, with loose plans to check out some of the many ghost towns in the vicinity. And cook delicious meals over open fires. And sing a lot of songs.

I can’t wait.

[My close friends (I’m looking at you, Lola & sister) will recognize my scrappy picnic blanket, now getting pretty bedraggled, but still much-loved.]



Her nickname was Lolli, and she was a juicy sweet woman who dressed inappropriately for this community college language class. She was maybe in her early 30s, and I learned one day that her third marriage was ending.

“Well,” I primly assumed, “I guess you won’t be going there again.”

She looked at me guilelessly, her freckled face open. “Why not?” she asked. “If there’s love, why not? Why would I close myself off to love?”

I don’t think that marrying everyone you love is a wise idea. But the thing I remember the most: she wasn’t mortally wounded. She wasn’t building walls against future intimacy and commitment. She still believed that love was a good thing, even if it only lasted a season or three.

She wasn’t scared.

Lolli, I haven’t thought about you for years, but tonight I raise a glass to you, and the example you give me. I won’t show as much cleavage or belly as you loved to, but in other ways, I’m lowering my defenses.

We are all flawed, and love is a good thing. Mazel tov, my friend.



With every plant and pot I bring, I feel more invested. Not financially. Emotionally. I’m planting a garden again. It feels so, so good.

dressing up


We dressed up in glad rags and went to a friend’s wedding. He joked that he wanted me to catch the bouquet, but the bride didn’t have one. But it sure was lovely to see him in the suit I’d adjusted.

making space


Letting out pants. Letting in possibilities. So far, it’s been wait and see. But I’m making space for the idea that this could be It.

keeping quiet

#alone #fmsphotoaday #fmsphotoaday_hashimaree

Keeping Quiet, by Pablo Neruda

Now we will count to twelve
and we will all keep still
for once on the face of the earth,
let’s not speak in any language;
let’s stop for a second,
and not move our arms so much.

It would be an exotic moment
without rush, without engines;
we would all be together
in a sudden strangeness.

Fishermen in the cold sea
would not harm whales
and the man gathering salt
would not look at his hurt hands.

Those who prepare green wars,
wars with gas, wars with fire,
victories with no survivors,
would put on clean clothes
and walk about with their brothers
in the shade, doing nothing.

What I want should not be confused
with total inactivity.

Life is what it is about…

If we were not so single-minded
about keeping our lives moving,
and for once could do nothing,
perhaps a huge silence
might interrupt this sadness
of never understanding ourselves
and of threatening ourselves with

Now I’ll count up to twelve
and you keep quiet and I will go.



They started as strangers. After 2 hours, they were friends. It was fun to watch.



Rowe and I have a little mutual admiration society going on.
She thinks I’m beautiful and smart.
I think that she’s a work of art.
And that is how we’ll still be years from now.



I had to laugh when I put my glass down; this scene looked so staged, that I just had to photograph it. But honestly, the only styling adjustment I made was to rotate the eggplant so its bar code sticker was hidden.

Here’s my new favourite way to eat eggplant:

Smoky Roasted Eggplant Recipe
1 large eggplant
1 tbs olive oil
2 tsp smoked paprika (it’s gotta be the smoked stuff)

Preheat oven to 400°F.
Cut eggplant into approximately half-inch cubes. There is no need to peel it.
Toss in a bowl with the oil and smoked paprika.
Spread on a baking sheet and roast for 15 mins. Stir and toss, then roast for another 10 – 15 minutes.
Resist the urge to eat the whole lot. Or don’t resist. Not saying which one I did.



I wonder if I’ll ever be able to have a conversation with J, and not think about them for hours afterwards. I guess they will always hold a good chunk of my heart.

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