Stephanie says

Phoned  Velma to wish her a Happy 97th Birthday. We were catching up when I said, My daughter just turned 36 Velma said, "I wish I was 36." I replied, "I was 36 two years running. 35 got lost in the mix. By the time I figured that out, I was 36." Velma chuckles at this.

One of my clients stopped by today, a devout Methodist, likely mid-seventies, she runs the local food bank in this community.   She was telling me about a conversation with her son about the social issue of this year:   Sexual harassment. A long time friend came up and gave him a big hug. Crystal and her son discussed whether that was sexual harassment.   Crystal’s point was an affectionate gesture between two people wasn’t harassment.   I’m in total agreement.   She was missing the point while dismissing the real issue.   Her son had no financial power over his friend.   They have an affectionate and fond relationship.   I was hearing some pooh-poohing of the very concept of sexual harassment.   Crystal wondered why it took so long for some women to come forward. “I hear you,” I said.   “That clouds the issue. Up until right now.” I asked her if she’d every been sexually harassed.   “Oh, no.   Of course no...

I cleaned my mother’s silver belt tonight; I’m giving it to you for Christmas.   I’d always thought it silver, but now think another metal, maybe copper or tin, is overlaid on a silver base.    This belt is so recognizable to me, and I fondly find it pretty. Mom had it forever.   She dressed like a gypsy, walnut stained face and many layers of necklaces, to read fortunes at my third grade school carnival, and wore this belt clasped at her waist over voluminous skirts and slips, hoop earrings, scarved red tresses, and striking green eyes.   She nailed it.   I was amazed by her performance – yeah, like an eight year old.   So proud!   You can thank her genetically for your waistline – apparently it skips a generation…    Helene would delight in you wearing this!

Henry bugering up my windows. 

Okay, so it's totally one-sided.  That'd be on my side.  That man has a voice that wakes me from a deep sleep into instant awareness:  Eddie Vedder singing.  His range isn't as high as Lyle Lovett, but he's got that low pitch going up and up, and pulling down on the crescendo, which is tantalizing.  I can recognize it anywhere. Whew, baby.  Thank you.

Henry dons a ZAP wristband And shapeshifts into a super hero before my very eyes Balancing on one foot, the other kicked out behind, A slight bend at the waist, arms soaring up, up, and away.   I say “Wow” and he flashes me an “oh, you get it” kind of smile. 

Just watched “The Lighthouse of the Orcas” and thought about your Olympic Peninsula adventures.   An event I fervently wished I’d seen with my own eyes.   If I’d only had a drone then.   So told totally from my imagination: The scene:   The two of you in a raft, (or a kayak, or some other very small water craft,) paddling from the shores of a ginormous body of water, saltwater, when a pod of Orcas stop by for a visit. Here’s the part I really, really wanted a close-up visual:   Michael paddling toward them.   Jacky paddling away.  Classic keystone. Hey Jack, I judged, (sorry) and thought you totally wimped out.   Michael, being Michael, likely slanted my view. Until tonight I thought Orcas were of similar size to a porpoise, (a porpoise being bigger than I want to swim next to…) but I learned I was wrong.   And that Orcas are HUGE and powerful in the abstract.   Right where I plan on keeping them. I’d have ...