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.
Some people can’t resist chocolate. For others, it’s clothes. Some folks, oddly enough, will spend $110,000 on a Ferrari with no back seat and hardly any trunk. Imagine that . . . For me as the mother of young children, toys were my weakness. Read more.
We have a slew of family photos we could put on our Christmas card this year. Help us decide which one. Vote for your favorite.
It turns out that, yes, you can go home again. If you’re me, that is. All I had to do was show up for my high school class reunion and there I was, back in Birmingham, Michigan.
Peter and I walked over to the Minneapolis Sculpture Garden. Claes Oldenburg’s “Spoonbridge and Cherry” is a kick, but I gravitated to Jenny Holzer’s witty “Selections From the Living Series.”
After the Religion Newswriters Conference in Minneapolis in September, I took time out to visit our son Peter. Together we took a walk around the Walker Art Center. Here’s what we saw.
Photos from the Midwest’s best-kept secret: lively, liveable Minneapolis.
My mother is in the hospital. That means I’ll be doing a lot driving — and not so much writing.