Veteran journalist Barbara Falconer Newhall riffs on life as she knows it.
Let’s face it. Kids, some kids, naturally love raunchy jokes and faces. There’s one living at my house who loves everything yucky. Read more.
The trouble with daffodils is they have no subtext. They are all cheer and sparkle and optimism. They are avatars of perky. They get on my nerves. Read more.
My mother-in-law was on the phone. Could my 6-year-old son Peter come to Southern California for a week’s visit with her? “A week?” I thought. Could I get along without my little son for a whole week? Read more.
Pink dresses. Powder blue dresses. Dresses with nosegays, kitty cats and sunbursts. Are little girls the last hold-outs for pretty these days? Read more.
By Barbara Falconer Newhall He shows up every spring. Some years we see him. Some years we don’t. He shows up at our house just as dozens of daffodils are showing their bright, ridiculously optimistic faces all over the neighborhood and the show-offy star magnolia in our front yard is glorious with blossoms. Every year he arrives […]