Of my almost three years at Open Salon, this is the worst dust storm I have witnessed. I usually put on a gas mask when they happen, but this time it's seeping through cracks and making my eyes tear up.

At the risk of sounding like Pollyanna (forgive me but I d… Read full post »

It happened on a Sunday afternoon. I remember being in the kitchen when my cell phone rang and thinking it was a bad connection. My friend's voice was breaking up and what she said made no sense. “Taevius has been shot. I’m out of town. Can you get to the… Read full post »

The name my parents gave me was "Sharon".  I asked my mother once why they chose it, hoping for a good story. There wasn't one. "We liked it." They didn't know, or care what the name meant. I looked it up to see if they accidently named me something significant. "Sharon"… Read full post »

1961 was my Indian summer. I was nine and watched Westerns on TV cheering for the Indians to win. They didn't. I checked out the only book about Indians in the children't section of  the library: “The Story of Squanto”. Most days I convinced the girl across the street to play… Read full post »

My son is an up and coming playwright. This is not just my biased opinion. He won a national playwriting competition and is at this moment in Washington DC at the Kennedy Center with seven other playwrights who were chosen for this year’s MFA competition. He will work with… Read full post »

When my son was born I had a lot to learn. My experience was limited to the baby of a friend, but my friend was so thrilled being a mom she did everything herself. After several months she let me change the diaper, but both times it fell off.

My… Read full post »

Serena after her women's singles win at Wimbledon. She likes to jump. I have inside information. 

I'll start with confessions. I watched this match but didn't know it was Wimbledon until the announcers said the Duke of Windsor was going to award the trophy. I thought it was the US… Read full post »

"Busy people are happy people." My mother-in-law laughed when she said it. I did too because I thought she had to be joking. That was before I knew it was her mantra. 

To look at her, you wouldn't think she was busy. When running late she didn't hurry. "We'll get there… Read full post »

I remember the first time my niece, Damina, mentioned something strange was happening in her head.  We were sitting on the floor of my daughter's hotel room talking quietly because children were sleeping.  My daughter whispered, "Tell her about the car." My niece hesi/… Read full post »

I'm hopelessly optimistic in addition to being a mime. If that annoys you, I understand. I annoy my own self sometimes, and tell myself to shut up, forgetting I already have.

If OS goes down, the Universe will feel the void, and someone will create a site for… Read full post »

The last project my niece worked on with fellow students from UCLA was a huge digital mural in honor of farm workers rights activist Miguel Contreras. The name of the mural is "Gente del Maiz" and the artist is Judith F. Baca. 

I don't have many details, because Damina didn't tell… Read full post »

One of my projects that has kept me away from OS lately is writing for "Make Peace/Build Community", a blog site sponsored by the Baha'is of the US. Below is a piece I wrote about my experience on Open Salon. I know things have changed here, but what I love most… Read full post »

When a spouse dies you are a widow or widower. Parents die and you are an orphan. There is no name for a parent whose child dies. It would make conversations easier when the subject of children comes up.  Do we think by naming it, we give it power? Do… Read full post »

Yesterday a man who delivers a weekly newspaper to our office wished us all a happy mother’s day. He never lingers for personal conversations, so doesn't know I am the only one. The two other women want children but spent their prime fertile years with creeps. Now it is almost too late… Read full post »

I think I was arrested, but it was confusing. The police never said those words or put me in handcuffs. Maybe they thought it could set off a riot. People were in the street, circling around the cars and yelling. If I hadn’t been so scared, I might have enjoyed it.… Read full post »

My husband compares the world to a horizon. Everything falls into place and connects along an expanding line. 

I see the world in circles. They spin, bump and bounce. Connections are delightful surprises within the chaos. 

&n… Read full post »

Just when I think I’m doing okay, I have a day where images and memories of my niece explode inside. I miss appointments, and put the wrong dates on flyers, and question if it’s my brain or if I’m just sad.

I think I’m sad. The memorial services are… Read full post »

This afternoon there is a party at our house for my one year old grandson and three year old granddaughter. My daughter booked a pony, and while she isn’t saying this, I’m sure it was inspired by an unfulfilled childhood wish. One pony is no big deal. It’s the fourteen-animal-pettin… Read full post »

For my "free write" exercise today, I decided to use the obvious inspiration. This is what I remember...won't swear it is the absolute truth, but it's as close as I can get. 

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My family did not go to church on Easter Sunday. It was too crowded and my/… Read full post »

This is an overheard conversation between my soon to be three year old granddaughter, Apraih (uh-PRAY-uh), and her five year old brother Hassani, (Ha-SAN ee) AKA "Sani". I stole it from my daughter's FB post.

Apraih: Sani, I gonna be a mommy. And I gonna have my own hub-band.

Sani: Headband?… Read full post »

My grandson did a marathon reading of the first Hunger Games book before the movie came out. He has never done that. He prefers action...martial arts, gymnastics, hip-hop dance, football and acting. He's currently rehearsing a children’s production of Sleeping Beauty. He wanted to be/… Read full post »

I was at a High School poetry competition this week and saw a glimpse of her face on someone else. When the girl stepped to the mic I saw familiar cheek bones and eyes and red hair, thick like hers once was. This girl had a unique approach to the poem.… Read full post »