Monday, November 30, 2015


My son, the actor, decided long ago that he wouldn't use the word actress to describe a female actor. He would simply use, actor. One arguement is that as the nature of the work doesn't change with the gender, changing the word just doesn't make sense.

Few are the occupations that change the word based on gender.

Even in the arts it is one of few (only?) occupation titles that gender sorts. Dancers, Vocalists, Musicians, Designers, Directors, Bassoonists, etc . . none of these and more identify the gender of the performer.

We (he and I) have spoken often of the ramifications of words, the import of terms and how they are wielded. My son, the actor, decided long ago to cease use of the word actress to describe a female actor.

Can you think of any profession in which the word for same is different depending on the gender of the performer?


Tuesday, November 24, 2015


Instinctively, her arms jut as she tumbled. Deliberately, I extended mine, not to catch her, but to join her in the tumble as we sought purchase in canyon of love.  


Monday, November 16, 2015

Second Weekend in November

Sixty degree temps in the middle of November prompted a trip outdoors to get down to the yard work put off for too many weekends to count. The fallen, blown leaves ankle deep needed to be curbed, shrubbery grown out of control needed to be tamed, and trash by way of empty cups and assorted wrappers resting atop and buried within the ankle deep fallen leaves needed to be properly disposed.

And so, for several hours over the two weekend days I raked, pruned, and collected trash to be disposed. Work mostly done on auto-pilot usually means the mind (mine, anyway) wanders. My wandering mind settled on a list, which is not surprising, of rampant and recent annoyances, which is kind of surprising.

In no particular order:

Folks who won't use trash receptacles to properly dispose of their trash.

Neon signs that scream "open" when the establishment is in fact, closed.
And businesses without posted hours of operation. AND businesses that have posted hours
but do not adhere to them consistently.

Folks who use "actually" in a manner that is . . . superfluous, to say the least.

Bombs. I cannot imagine being in a space directly impacted by the act of bombing. But, even from afar, I am annoyed. Angry, even.

Just to name a few.

I am grateful for the sixty degree days and the opportunity to wrangle the yard into shape for I know the other side of the weather coin is but a pattern away. I am grateful too, for having a mind--even if it does wander--even if the wandering leads to less than pleasant thoughts. Those too, can be productive, in time.

But, that's a thought for another day.

#MicroBlog Monday.  


Monday, November 02, 2015

Welcome to November

$14.57 on hand with five days to go before the next payday, a mild panic rose in her chest. A quick check of her transit card balance and even quicker calculation toward determining how much of the $14.57 had to be committed to getting to work for the next four days, elevated the panic from mild to extreme.*

#MicroBlogMonday -- go see, read, play along. 

*fictionalized reality.

Monday, October 19, 2015

Fun Day

Pete may or may not have been having fun. Buttah, though seemed 
to be enjoying himself. 

Feeling more like Pete these days. 

#MicroblogMonday~ go check 'em out. 

Monday, October 12, 2015

Older. New Thing.

Yesterday was my daughter's thirtieth birthday.  The thirty days leading into her birth date has been a journey down memory lane, much of which was shared in this space and to my FB circle. From this day forward I am the parent of two "kids" in their thirties.

And so today, I had flour-less pancakes; banana and eggs. Hmmm...  I think tomorrow I shall try it with cinnamon.

#MicroBlog Monday 

Sunday, October 11, 2015

Thirty Out Loud

Over the past thirty days I've shared "through the years images" of my daughter in pre-celebration of her thirtieth birthday, which is today. 
Over the past thirty years my daughter and I (and the rest of the family) have shared much, as you may imagine. She has been the source of some of my greatest joys and the opposite. 

Over the past thirty days I have come to recall some moments of the last thirty years, sparking wonder-filled conversations and laughter. 

Over the past thirty years I have helped my daughter navigate; learning as I taught.  

Over the past thirty days, as I've re-visited words and images I am reminded of the tenacity of her spirit, 
the expanse of her personality, the quality of her character. 

Over the past thirty years there have been ups and downs. We survived, I believe because we have been able to talk. And write what may have proven difficult to verbalize.  

Over the past thirty days I re-visited the large and small celebrations; remembering how we've cheered each other's  triumphs. Here's to the happiest of happy days today, tomorrow, and beyond.