Such a weekend we just celebrated in LA, full of sin and dishonor, two qualities that also make special our little village by the sea.
As my Irish luck would have it, I wound up singing “Danny Boy” to Dogpark Gary.
This season is full of tiny hazards, self-reflection being one of them. Herbal non-gluton crackers being another. And beware of those non-dairy non-cheeses.
Such a grand brunch. A birthday brunch.
There are now 400 variations on the color white: Winter Wheat, Deer Bosom, Fargo, to name just a few.
Marriage is funny. Not a lot of laughs, yet funny still. I miss sharing things with someone.
Just as our plight seems endless, fall winks at us I got a carton of eggs for a buck the other day. Ponder that a moment. I mean, how do chickens do that, squeeze out a dozen eggs at those prices, when I can barely afford a car? They weren’t jumbo, but they were really … Continue reading Wistful, Hazy Pleasures
My son Smartacus and I still haven't figured out “what now?” After "The Wedding," a long summer awaits. Blueberry pie, anyone?
All I can think: What’s going on here? This isn’t the sort of daughter you ever “give away.” Get a grip, man!