Veteran journalist Barbara Falconer Newhall riffs on life as she knows it.
Now and then I come across a photo that brings my husband back to life, and for one sweet moment, Jon is there in all his ineffable Jon-ness. Read more.
Let me tell you about my daisies. Fresh and perky last week, they had faded and shriveled when I wasn’t looking. Read more.
I sometimes wonder when I sit down to write — am I too much of an optimist? Am I too hopeful? Too trusting? Is my writing too nice? Read more.
The memorial tree planted in my husband’s honor is thriving — both of them. Madrones are fussy, so we planted two to be on the safe side. Read more.
Tending a long and deep friendship — we’ve done it by setting a hiking date once a month, without fail, so that I’m on her calendar and she’s on mine. Read more.
