“Single blessedness,” this state was called a hundred years ago, and enjoying it means rejoicing in my own skin.
Groundhog Day
I don’t adore the day because of the early arrival of spring but because it is the birthday of Lucy Cummings, the blessed woman who raised me from birth to age thirteen.
The Return of the Prodigal
The return of the prodigal recreates my faith in returns, generally—that the lost are never truly lost, or at least rarely.
Spring, and the Gift of a Teacher
What a long way we have come, all of us who have been writing now for decades, published and unpublished, read and unread.
Lunch with Teri / Dinner with Alice / Weekends with Sarah
These are the women I know I can call on in times of need…who will understand what I want, oversee my progress toward some form of wisdom with courage, humor and compassion—and, above all, tell me the truth.
The Old House on the Acequia Madre Finds Its New Mission
Let the women of the Acequia Madre House serve as our examples. They led comfortable lives, but their privilege did not prevent them from extending hope and help to those in need.
Upcoming Workshop: “When Words Really Matter”
For words really to matter, they must illuminate a larger reality than the inevitably small perimeters of our daily lives.
Skiing, Again
This winter we have the best snow in the West outside of Wolf Creek in southern Colorado which benefits from its high pass. We also have the nicest people, the warmest sun, the stiffest winds, and the most amazing views over the Rio Grande Valley, all the way up to the Colorado border.
Sitting
For a restless woman, sitting is always a challenge… yet I believe the ten minutes I sit every morning literally save my life.
Thirty Years Ago…
Those of us who are still alive must try to thrive outside of the tight circuit of the myth, which might be summed up in the Biblical phrase, “How are the mighty fallen!”