I shared this poem a few months ago. The words have risen again for me as I watch women and men of a certain age show up for the younger generations, and for all who are not yet with us but deserve to come to life in a healthy, safe, and loving world. I dedicate my poem to the strong and compassionate women of 750 WSC in particular. Desert Woman at 71 They say. They. She is old and gray Bones brittle, eyes cloudy A little creaky, a little stooped They. They say she is fading,

June 12, 2025 “Ideologies separate us. Dreams and anguish bring us together.” ~Eugene Ionesco Have you had dreams that have guided you in your life, beckoned you to go down a particular path, to take a risk that might enrich your life? Not just the kind of dreams you have when you sleep, but also the ones that flicker in and out of your imagining mind, that kind of haunt you in a good way. What if I…? If only I… I would really love to… I have had those good kinds of dreams. S

JUNE 3, 2025 "... the most daring thing is to create stable communities in which the terrible disease of loneliness can be cured." ~Kurt Vonnegut My husband Larry and I live in a condo building with lots of people our age, some younger, and many older. We have a few young families with children who have recently moved in. We have lived here since May 2018 – seven years ago this month! Being the introverts that we are, Larry and I mostly stayed to ourselves for the first few y

MAY 30, 2025 Like many others, I crave a life of security, predictability, safety. A life with adventures but also with steady ground beneath my feet. There have been times, however, when my ground has shaken mightily, when things were clearly broken. Those were moments in which I felt mired in confusion and chaos and darkness. When I was a very young child, I was diagnosed with an illness that persisted until about age 12. What my little child mind took away from this experi

MAY 21, 2025 What was I just thinking? doing? Help! One of the casualties that arose for me during COVID and has persisted since then is a changed attention span. It is shorter, choppier. Sometimes it feels like some other little people are climbing into my brain, begging me to pay attention to the news or goods that they are sharing. Of course that's not the case. I have control over what I attend to... but it is not always easy. Scientists and journalists have been looking

MAY 20, 2025 How are we doing? Today is Primary Election Day in Pennsylvania - a close contest in Pittsburgh between Democratic mayoral candidates, and eight slots open for Court of Common Pleas judges because of lots of retirements. Social media posts are abuzz with reminders that local politics and community building are as important, if not more so, than what happens at the state and federal levels. I believe that. And yet. What I hear the most about every day, from mainst

*with apologies to Mary Tyler Moore We tell ourselves stories about who we are, how we are to live, who others are and how they should...

The Scent of the Old Forest Carries Me   The scent of the old forest carries me As I float slowly and carefully through this ancient community.   The scent of the old forest carries me As I tiptoe across thick, knotted roots crossing the path, Roots that bind the members of this family together.   Yes I float, I tiptoe, not wanting to disturb the communication that is happening Between and among the hidden underground root threads, Filaments vibrating with essential nutrients

Lately I have been listening to trees Oh my. You have always been there, all along. Been there for me and others. How could I not have seen you for who you are? Heard your voice? Felt your pain or joy? I remember walking a trail, alone, over several weeks. Slowly and awkwardly, healing from a broken limb of my own. Scared, very very cautious and timid. But. I was not really alone. You were there on either side of me, arms reaching out protectively as a mother hovers over a ne

January 7, 2023 When we were children, our dad would take us on long Sunday drives. Dad’s driving style is “meandering” – he drives slowly, pulling over to let other people pass or waving people on at a four way stop. On our Sunday drives during childhood, the meandering gave us lots of time to observe the scenery through the car windows.   In his work life, Dad was a civil engineer. Most of his work involved projects to ensure water quality, access, and management. Our Sunda