The first candle I burned this morning was called “cedar balsam.” The next, “tree farm.” But I need only step outside into the frigid morning air to smell real wood. As I walk, I see Oregon juncos picking amongst the sawdust looking for birdseed. I survey the wood shavings and a freshly made stump close to the fence line; the only proof that a...
Read MoreMy friend, Vinny
I’ve always wanted a dog. In some of my daydreams, the dog is a cheerful, white and gold fur, blue-bandana-wearing Corgi named Joe. In others, she’s a sweet, gray and white Pitbull named Mira. When I was little, my parents gifted me a dog for Christmas, so I named her Noel. Our love affair was not long-lasting after she dug a hole so deep in the backyard...
Read MoreGoing Under and Forward
Medical procedures that involve anesthesia often put me in a mental tailspin, and my recent visit to a local surgical center offered no exceptions. Even though it was a routine procedure that many of us of a certain age endure, I carefully placed our outdated medical directives and wills on my home desk before going to the surgery center. They are from...
Read MorePriorities
My husband, Marc, shares enthusiastically that he is meeting with a composer his local orchestra has solicited for a piece of music. As he tells me about her and how they will explore his percussion instruments, he drops the bomb. “She’ll be here at 2 p.m. tomorrow,” he smiles, as he walks into another room to pull out and display his instruments for her...
Read MoreThe work of friendship
I do what I always do when I haven’t heard from Hank – whose name has been changed for the sake of privacy – for over six months: I scan the obituaries. He’s still alive, as far as I can tell, which means something else. It means his emails must be in my spam folder. Alas, there’s no proof of life there, either. Which means only one other thing is...
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