Category Archives: Home

Moments (44)

I was sitting one morning on the patio thinking about how I needed to quit drinking my yerba maté. I know this because I try to take note when birds arrive, try to find a why. I heard a commotion … Continue reading

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No Regrets (39)

I turned down a chance to hike in the desert this morning with people I like very much. It would have meant catching the bus at 7:45, and it sounded like too much to me last night, too much to … Continue reading

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Morning (35)

There is cat pee on the floor outside the litter box, and I sweep it halfway across the room before I realize. Sable complains for breakfast, his voice loud, grating, ceaseless. I am kind the first nineteen times I tell … Continue reading

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Tall and Small (34)

I see Helga and Gino partway down Indian Trail as I’m crossing Sonora. We wave to each other, and I keep going. What, I can’t walk in a different direction so I can say hello? There is no reason I … Continue reading

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Not Foreign (32)

Our country of origin is an odd thing. It shapes us. Even people who leave their native land when they are three years old are molded by it in ways they may never understand. Even people who only spend six … Continue reading

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The Day of the Dead (31)

I harvested my “Mexican” marigolds for my Day of the Dead altar. I wished I had a sugar skull, but my little sombrero-wearing skeleton and my painted wooden cats brought it to life for me. In Ajijic I went to … Continue reading

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Mexican Marigolds (30)

My yard is alive with French marigolds, the dark orangey red ones with a brighter orange woven in. Their variegated petals are hardy, their flower faces reaching toward the sun. I am glad the bees like them. I’m still eating … Continue reading

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