The fifth-century Saint Jerome kept a human skull on his desk to remind him of his mortality – memento mori. But if you’re like me and you like to take walks in the woods, you don’t need a skull taking up space on your desk to remind you that sooner or later everything dies, including you. That’s because the woods are full of dead stuff. Read more.
DON'T MISS!
I've written hundreds and hundreds of posts over the years. To help you find your way to the best of the best, I've tagged my favorites "Don't Miss!" Scroll down here to find them.
Another way to locate Riffs on Life that you might enjoy is to click above on your favorite category – "My Ever-Changing Family," perhaps, or "Funny Button." You can also use the search box located way up top to hunt for stories by topic. There's fun reading at "garden," "aging," "kids" and, of course, "Jon."
The de Young This Week: Bursting With Art — And Flowers
Art. Bouquets. More art. More bouquets. My idea of a good time. I spent the day yesterday at the annual Bouquets to Art show at the de Young Fine Arts Museum in San Francisco’s Golden Gate Park — joined by two friends who enjoy flowers and art as much as I do. Read more.
My Computer is Dead, Long Live My Omputer
For Wetter, For Drier — I’m Married to California
Basically, there are two kinds of Californian. Those who are delighted by a sunny February day. And those who are dismayed. Jon is one of the latter. You can chart the weather by Jon’s moods. Read more.
Stalking Superman
There he was. In the flesh. Tall and slender and muscled and oh-so-handsome. Sigh. It was Superman. The Man of Steel of my girlhood fantasies. My dream man. Read more.
Making Friends — Trying To — With the Dread Serial Comma
My book contract says that I’m to deliver my book manuscript “in conformity with the provisions in ‘The Chicago Manual of Style.’” That means that, at long last, I’m finally going head-to-head with the serial comma. Read more.
Little Girl Lost — My Mother’s Magical Babushka
When I was three or four years old, my mother took me shopping at a big department store in downtown Detroit. It might have been Crowley’s or Kern’s or Hudson’s. Shoppers crowded the aisles and soon, my mother and I got separated and I found myself alone. Read more.