Category Archives: About Life in General

In my writing class the other day, one of students told me he had a problem. “I actually have a terrific idea for a short story, but I just can’t get started. I can’t off the dime,” he said.

This is a common problem when you’ve stopped the writing process for some reason. “I can relate,” I said. “I haven’t written anything for six weeks.” Which was true. I’d been on a trip to New Zealand and Australia, an adventure trip—a trip of a lifetime. It had taken all my concentration and energy.

But I realized the cure was the same for almost everything, and I confided my secret to Martin. “We gotta bite the bullet,” I said. “And just do it.”

Did I follow my own advice? Not really. Other things came up…family things, health things, more travel things. And now two weeks have passed since I wrote the first two paragraphs above. Inertia became a Siren, calling me to the rocky shoals of apathy: “Come, you don’t need to write your blog. That’s just a goal someone imposed on you. It’s your Ego, trying to get you to perform. Life is about living. Let the writing go. Be “in joy”. Remember, you are a human being not a human doing.”

Ah, how seductive that voice is. And it has become educated in self-help lingo so that is sounds wise instead of lazy! But today I am in a place that soothes my spirit and quiets my sorrow. This allows me to tap into the creativity that has lain dormant for weeks. I have washed our clothes and the grapes, and unpacked the suitcases. I can rest easy for a while so words begin to form in my head as I walk along the shore. They flow in a lyrical stream that I know is inspired by the artistry of Jane Hamilton in her book The Dovekeepers.

I am grateful for all of this and the solitude. My only companions for the moment are the laptop, the roar of the surf, the twitter of songbirds, and the wind that has set the bushes to swaying like graceful hula dancers in a row.

It’s Sunday morning, 10:45. The turkey is gone. The stuffing is gone. The candied sweet potatoes and pumpkin pies are gone. Even the kids and the grandkids are gone.

It was a delicious weekend. I’m still in thankfulness mode. My kids all told me it was the best turkey and best stuffing ever. The grandkids played together well. The cousins, 9 to age 3, didn’t break too many things. They did manage to photocopy half of the items in my office, and all of their hands, as well as one person’s face. I thought it was very imaginative, but when I’m out of ink next week, I probably won’t be so happy.

The dog had fun. He stationed himself at the kids’ table, reasoning he’d be able to Hoover up more there than at the feet of the adults. And we ate outside. That was a first for us—warm enough on Thanksgiving to have dinner outside. Our Seattle contingent was blown away. Green grass and blue skies are aberrations enough. Al fresco Thanksgiving dining on the patio at home? Amazing to them.

In some ways it felt like déjà vu all over again. Only we were the grandparents who live in the desert, and our kids were playing our role. All during the Thanksgiving weekend, I felt I was in Einstein’s theory—time seemed relative. When I was making the stuffing, it was as if my grandmother was standing beside me. I’d learned her recipe forty years ago. (I make it just as she taught me, which necessitates me getting out the electric fry pan from the garage.)

The antique electric fry pan, which is indispensable for Thanksgiving.

As I got into my jeans and gelled my hair, I remembered my grandmother’s cotton dress, sensible shoes, and hair pulled back in a bun. Times have changed, I thought. But the smells from the kitchen and the shrieks of childish laughter from outside were certainly the same.

Past and present united. Hope the future will be the same.

Fast Forward into the future because I wrote the above five years ago. What’s funny is that I can repeat the first eight sentences verbatim. Really, almost all of it could be repeated.

Some things are different. We were at our house in Thousand Oaks this year. Our son, daughter-in-law and three kids now live in Chicago so they were blown away by the weather here this time. “I can’t believe how blue the sky is,” my son said yesterday morning as we sat outside at a coffee house.

Our daughter and son-in-law now have a baby girl who was a welcome addition to the group. She was a one-baby entertainment center. She kept the living room full of people clapping one night. She’d clap. We’d clap. She thought that was amazing so she’d clap again. Then we would. And so on. And on.

I couldn’t have been more gratified that my son and daughter said they thought my stuffing was the best ever! This year, my ten-year-old granddaughter helped me make it. I told her how my grandmother had taught me and that I remembered her everytime I made it. “Now, when I make it, I’ll always think of you,” Quinn said. I oozed joy.

Last year we had Thanksgiving in Seattle. It was my mother-in-law’s 90^th birthday although the dementia didn’t allow her to enjoy it much.

Esther Muscatel surrounded by her great grandchildren in 2011.

She died in May so there were no great grandparents at the table this year. But we remembered her and all of the greats. At our age, there is always the bitter with the sweet.

So past and present united again. And the future, which sometimes looked dimmed in the five years past, looked spiffy in the present. So grateful for our blessings.

It doesn’t get any better than this!!!

I’ve just had an interesting ten days. It was my husband’s birthday and we celebrated in Hawaii.

Peaceful Harmony: Sunset in Hawaii

Concurrently at our hotel, Jack Osbourne, the son of Ozzy and Harriett, I mean, Sharon, was getting married. I guess it was hush-hush so the Paparazzi were out in force. The beaches are public in Hawaii so these guys were free to lurk a few feet away from the hotel’s private property walkway. If you wanted to sit on the beach while on vacation, you had a guy dressed in safari gear waving a telephoto lense near your head. There were also confrontations between security and the Paparazzi.

Two Paparazzi On the Prowl

The security guys played a kind of keep away with them, trying to block them from photographing the Osbourne family at the pool. I’m telling you, it was hard to get in touch with your inner-mermaid under these conditions.

Photo Paparazzi Took of Kelly Osbourne

I must admit to a morbid curiosity. We’d heard rumors about the wedding and you just couldn’t help looking around. I don’t even care about the Osbournes, but it was fascinating to see them. One day after all the hoopla, I was taking my usual walk and up ahead saw what I thought was an older woman limping along with her grandkids in attendance. As I got closer, I saw it was a man with long hair who was all dressed in black. I should have gotten a clue then—how many people dress all in black at 8:15 in the morning in Hawaii, but I had to hear the man speak before I realized it was Ozzy. The fresh-faced teenager smiling from ear-to-ear at the man’s story? I didn’t realize until later that it was Kelly Osbourne. I’d only seen her with a sneer on her face, and didn’t realize how pretty and sweet she could look.

At the same time, forty Medal of Honor winners were being feted at the hotel. Being a writer, I am observant of what’s going on around me—a nice way of saying I’m nosy—and I had noticed this group of mostly older men and their families. One day they wore Hawaiian shirts of similar design. I had no idea they were Medal of Honor winners until I was in yoga class. Someone had sat in on a meeting when each man told his story of how he’d earned his medal. She was still overwhelmed by their bravery and modesty. “Each story brought tears to my eyes,” she said. I began watching these guys—really looking at them, trying to see in their faces what had made them able to act “above and beyond the call of duty”.

Medal of Honor winners in Hawaii, 2012

As an aside, you can imagine with all my looking, I don’t watch where I’m going. No wonder I stumble a lot!!

Not only do I look but my mind takes me elsewhere. Here, I thought, were men whose pictures should be in the news. TRUE HEROES. Their claim to fame was not behavior on a concert stage or on a reality television show, but lay in their ability to act in dire situations. How had our society’s priorities gotten topsy-turvy? We honor celebrities but we overlook the valiant among us.

It is something to think about.