Wednesday, March 28, 2007


Spent the last two days in bed with pain in head and chest. When I told my son I was coughing up stuff, he asked: "Like what? Sheep? Rabbits?" I wish sometimes he weren't bigger than I am.

Better today after a meal of crackers, cheese and two oranges. Felt well enough to go through some old Zip Discs and found some neat old graphics like this:

I'm back on a graphic quest of magical things like this, for kids and for me.

I want to make a teeshirt for our upcoming pagan festival that says, "Don't Piss Off the Faeries".

In the Ould Countries, Faeries are far from cute and harmless. They are vengeful little buggers who where once overcrowded by humans into the Underworld. They look for every chance to do us mischief. Read Terry Pratchett's Wee Free Men to get an idea of their shenanigans.

I hope my Big Brother Bill is still reading this and is well and happy. I'll try to post more family photos soon. As usual, it's after my bedtime again. Must post and get to bed.

Monday, March 19, 2007


Saturday night I took the kids to see a friend who has a two-year old cockapoo. My four-year old granddaughter fell in love with Max, who she said is "the coolest dog". My one-year old grandson, who is now walking, also adored the dog and chased him around the large living room (a room so large you could fit my whole house in it).

Then Sunday morning we met my son (aka "Daddy") where he was dog-sitting two large elderly rescue dogs in Fruitvale and we all walked them. My granddaughter fell in love with quiet gentle Gigi, a greyhound. Gigi looks a lot like this:

We steered clear of Alpha female Winona, a german shepherd who is sweet but very protective.

The baby screamed with joy during the whole walk. It was a chilly morning but gratifying and we talked alot about doggies and the care they need.

Whenever folks say they want to get a dog, I advise them that it's a lot like having a baby that never really grows up. There should be a real commitment to these animals, and they shouldn't be left alone too long--that's the rub. Dogs aren't for people with regular work hours unless they live nearby and can go home at lunch to walk the dog. Even with a large yard, dogs get lonely and bored and start cutting up. I learned this many years ago from experience and won't be a dogowner again until I can make that commitment.

Tuesday, March 13, 2007


Thinking of "La Serenissima" today.

Other Americans flock to Disneyland; I'll take Venice, where the real magic is.

Why didn't parts of California's Bay Area develop into a Venice-like island network? We had the same kind of lagoon/bay and marshes. We didn't pound pilings into the muck to see if they would petrify. We just filled in vast areas of the San Francisco Bay, and built wooden shacks on the fill. Pity. But there was a Gold Rush and all that. And our weather can be a lot rougher as well.

Just think if we had no cars around the edges of the Bay and went everywere by boat? Instead of bicycles, we'd have little one- and two-rower gondolas. Police boats and garbage boats. Muni would run the vaporettos; the bus-like barges that carry passengers up and down the canals.

On land, we'd still have the cable cars and trollies of course. And, no doubt, automobiles.

Enough dreaming.

A writer I know has a blog titled "My Great Breast Cancer Adventure". You'll find it here:

Jane runs The Writing Salon with classes in San Francisco and Berkeley which I highly recommend. I took a screenwriting class there and loved it; it was worth every penny.

This blog of hers is about her daily life since she was diagnosed with breast cancer, had a lumpectomy, and is foregoing the chemo/radiation path for a more holistic lifestyle. She has much more than that going on, of course, and is a very good writer.

In a recent post, Jane talks about a "Alzheimer's moment" when she woke up, went into her bathroom and almost put toothpaste on her hairbrush.

I had such a moment today when, after having been scolded about coming into work late, I rushed around this morning in order to get out the door and to the office early for a change.

All went well until I arrived at work, realized I'd remembered to put on all of my clothes except for a bra. Luckily I wore an ironed cotton shirt with breast pockets so except for a little wiggling when I walked, I hope no one noticed. It's the first time I've been out of my house bra-less since the 1960's.

Tuesday, March 06, 2007


It is so lovely outside today I can hardly stand it. And feel a bit freaky-tweaky like Dave McKean and crazy/wild like Frieda. So I found a combo of the two.
Couldn't we all be like either of these scrarily creative folks?
I remember a day like today when I was in a home ec class in high school. The elderly (my age now) teacher was droning on about something: sewing or cooking or some such womanly subject so uninteresting I can't even remember it.
The day outside was perfect like today and I thought why can't we go outside and sit on the grass while she talks? Why am I in here in the first place? Why don't I just get up and walk out and create a life for myself?

And today I'm thinking the same thing, forty years later. Instead of going home after eight hours of incarceration and trying to create in the meager three or four hours left to me, why aren't I working three or four hours and creating eight hours of the day?
Coward? Pragmatist? Realist? Whiner?
One of my favorite creators has a blog called Cally Creates:
I found her through art for housewives, my other daily creative dose:
And there are other, so many others.
Here's the rub: The more you explore what others are doing, the less you do yourself. Just as reading makes you feel as if you've been writing. But you haven't been writing; you've been passively reading. Better than passively watching TV or movies, but still not creating.