Veteran journalist Barbara Falconer Newhall riffs on life as she knows it.
I’m Barbara Falconer Newhall and I’ve got an incurable Case of the Human Condition. And since you do too, I’m counting on you to laugh and cry along with me as I riff on life as we know it . . . Below you'll read about my creaky, old fifties house, my forays into home gardening, my shopping stories, my spectacularly low-fashion wardrobe -- and more.
My friend Jake is a man in his prime. He does triathlons, reads good books, knows all the best hiking trails and drinks nice wines. Jake has never been anybody’s rickety old grandpa — until recently, when Jake’s daughter gave birth to a baby girl. Read more.
If I were drawing a map of the world, its center would be the little beach in Michigan where the Bass Lake outlet flows into the great, blue Lake Michigan. Read more.
My Michigan friends are emailing me about the Asian carp threatening to enter Lake Michigan and the other Great Lakes from the Illinois canal system. The carp would seriously endanger fish and other wildlife in the Lakes and local rivers.
Most of my grandmother’s children – there were seven of them – lived out their lives within walking distance of their mother’s white frame house in Scottville, Michigan. Not my father. He moved away. So did I. So has my son. Read more.
I waited too long to get married. By the time Jon and I said our vows, the contents of my hope chest had become outdated, old-fashioned, fussy — unusable. As a result, after thirty some years of marriage, I continue to be the owner of a dozen or so beautiful, hand-embroidered, virginal pillowcases. Read more.
I believe in microbes. Microbes are like God. You can’t hear them, taste them, smell them or see them with the naked eye. But you know they’re there. Lately, I’ve had more experiences with microbes than with God. I’ve been sick a lot. Read more.
Apparently, it snowed last night on our little hill in Oakland. There was snow all over the place at 11 a.m. — on cars, on the lawn around a local hilltop swimming pool, on Mt. Diablo to the East, and dripping and plopping off the trees.