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Barbara Falconer Newhall

Veteran journalist Barbara Falconer Newhall riffs on life as she knows it.

  • A CASE OF THE HUMAN CONDITION
  • MY EVER-CHANGING FAMILY
  • WRITING & READING
  • MY ROCKY SPIRITUAL JOURNEY
  • WIDOWED
  • FUNNY BUTTON

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."

Sam Lamott Couldn’t Make It, but Anne Arrived With a Bouquet of Bons Mots

September 15, 2012 By Barbara Falconer Newhall 1 Comment

Anne Lamott. Photo by BF Newhall

Sam Lamott was too busy being an art student and the father of a 2-year-old to show up at a book signing for “Some Assembly Required,” the book he wrote with his mother, the best-selling author Anne Lamott. But Anne was present and had pithy things to say about writing — and being the mother of a 22-year-old father. Read more.

A Case of the Human Condition: Am I Scotch?* Or Midwestern?

August 27, 2012 By Barbara Falconer Newhall 2 Comments

DB Falconer dances the Virginia reel with daughter Barb, Camp Morrison, MI, 1949. Photo by Tinka Falconer

Genealogically speaking, I’m not that far removed from Scotland. My father’s father was born near Glasgow. But the complex – presumably – set of beliefs and customs he and his parents brought with them to the shores of Lake Michigan in 1873 are lost to me now. Tartans have given way to Levi’s. Haggis has succumbed to pizza and Chinese take-out. When I think about where I come from, I do not think of Scotland. I think of Michigan. Read More.

My Mother’s Goneness

May 13, 2012 By Barbara Falconer Newhall 2 Comments

Small tweed and leather purse. Photo by BF Newhall

My mother is gone, but when she died, she left a few things behind — a battered old purse, a small sofa she liked to call the loveseat. Read more.

Purple Bearded Irises — Close Up and (Very) Personal

May 8, 2012 By Barbara Falconer Newhall 3 Comments

[caption id="attachment_28388" align="aligncenter" width="500"]Irises -- An iris blossom close up. Purple. Photo by Barbara Newhall An iris blossom close up. Purple. Photo by Barbara Newhall[/caption]

There’s a heck of a lot of erotica going on inside an iris blossom. Stamen. Pistel. Haft. Claws. And, of course, those fuzzy, caterpillar-like beards. Read more.

The Writing Room: My Flesh Is Weary — Too Much Book-Writing, Not Enough Yoga

May 6, 2012 By Barbara Falconer Newhall Leave a Comment

The cluttered desk and computer of a busy writer. Photo by BF Newhall.

Can you guess who wrote this? “Of making many books there is no end; and much study is a weariness of the flesh.” Hint: The writer’s been dead for at least two millenniums. Read more.

I’m a Meat-Eating Loser – I Didn’t Win the New York Times Ethicist Contest

April 22, 2012 By Barbara Falconer Newhall Leave a Comment

Artichokes stacked for sale at Whole Foods, Berkeley, CA. Photo by BF Newhall

I’m a meat-eating loser. I didn’t win the “Why It’s OK to Eat Meat” essay contest the New York Times Magazine put on a few weeks ago. But I’m OK with that. Read more.

In My Rain-Battered Garden — Nothing Is Forever, Not Even Those Poppies

March 31, 2012 By Barbara Falconer Newhall 4 Comments

I mucked around in the soil beneath this blue beauty, but I couldn't find the Annie's Annuals ID stick. Anybody know what it is? Photos by Barbara Falconer Newhall

St. Jerome kept a human skull on his desk to remind him of his mortality. We gardeners don’t need a skull . We’ve got stuff dying on us every day. Read more.

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LET’S CONNECT

ON THE FUNNY SIDE

Photo Op: Pentwater, Michigan — A Small Town on a Big Lake

North Hancock Street, Pentwater, Michigan, with shops, flags and trees. Photo by BF Newhall

When I was a kid, Pentwater was not the place to be. The place to be was on the beach or in the woods with the wild critters. But now that I am thoroughly grown up, I’m preferring the charms of Pentwater village to the toads and grasshoppers of my 9-year-old self. Read more.

MORE "ON THE FUNNY SIDE"

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  • A Case of the Human Condition
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TO MY READERS

Please feel free to share links to my posts with one and all and to quote briefly from them in your own writing, remembering, of course, to attribute the quote to me and to provide a link back to this site.

My Oakland Tribune columns, btw, are reprinted by permission of the Trib. With the exception of review copies of books, I do not accept ads or freebies of any kind. Click on the "Contact" button if you have questions. Enjoy!

 

DON’T MISS!

Red, red berries in a garden in autumn in the upper midwest. Photo by Barbara Newhall

Autumn in the Garden, When Sensible Plants Pack It In for the Winter . . . And a Healing Ankle

barbara-falconer-newhall-editing-herbook

Getting Older: I’m Not ‘Keeping Busy’

toddlers-1941

We Humans Are Ineffable

A storybook Tudor house for sale in Minneapolis.

I Brake for Floor Plans — I Like to See How Those Other People Live

MORE DON'T MISS!

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