Poem: Echoes of Three

I have refined a poem I wrote a couple of years ago. This is a villanelle, with its own rules for construction. This is an excellent brain exercise for someone like me, a novice poet. Echoes of Three Superstition suggests death comes in threesAs homage to the Holy TrinityIf it should happen, will you fall…

Lots of Photos from Rachael and Andrew’s Baby Shower for Little Milo

Yesterday, we celebrated Rachael and Andrew’s baby, Milo Andrés, who is due to make his appearance in the next month or so. Andrew’s mom did all the decorations; Liz and Andrew’s cousin, Natalie, came up with all the games; Ron’s mom made lots of food; and I made an agave-sweetened lemon pie. Three of Rachael’s…

Echoes of Childhood, Carried on the Wind

The sound of a train whistle instantly takes me back to my childhood. There is something about its long, lonesome call that moves me out of the present moment and into memory, as if time briefly folds in on itself. I would have been less than nine years old when I first came to know…

Neighbors in Fur, Feather, and Wing

I have always had a deep interest in the natural world. That interest has deepened since moving to the orange grove, where I am often outside, surrounded by trees, birds, and animals. Since moving here, I have learned how destructive gophers are to orange trees—we lose several trees yearly to gophers chewing through their roots….

A Gift from One of My Students: His Success

I recently received a text from one of my students, whom I helped with his dental school applications and, more recently, his residency applications. This is what he wrote: Good morning, Len! I hope everything has been well with you and your family, as well as your recent publication. I wanted to update you on…

When Online Friendship Steps into Real Life

On Friday, Ray and I made the train trip south to Oceanside to see a student of mine, her husband, and two of her closest friends, all vacationing from Washington State. Kathie and I know each other from Story Circle Network, a 27-year-old nonprofit that encourages women to tell their stories. Kathie has taken classes…

The Quiet Language of Touch

I have a strong memory of spending a lot of time when I was a little girl snuggled up in bed next to my mother, her skin warm and her smell comforting. In that memory, my mother is always reading, and her arm is around me so that I am nestled next to her. I…

All Abroad: The Train’s A’Coming

The anniversary of my mother’s death is tomorrow. She’s been gone 26 years. I wrote this piece a while back, but I think it expresses some of my thoughts on my mother’s passing. I loved her very much and miss her every day. A train is a means of conveyance that moves on a track…