I have always been a writer, ever since I learned how to put pencil to paper
and make those mysterious marks that could be read. Mostly I've written for
my own pleasure. My cohort has been Baby Boomers, that big population bubble
that burst on the scene in the United States after the end of World War II.
We were responsible for big growth in suburbs, schools and churches during
the 1950s and 1960s. Now that I am in the part of my life that has less
future as days go by, I find myself wondering what this experience called
living so long has meant.
My pandemic project was clearing out my house. Over the past fifteen months, I came across years of writing, some published in national women's magazines, some done as a volunteer for various organizations, some have never seen the light of day. My aim is to share some of my musings, updated of course.
I was born in San Francisco and live in Los Angeles. Most of my thoughts have a distinctly West Coast bent, but may be of interest to others. My husband Hank and I have been married fifty years. We have one son and one daughter. Both are gainfully employed (hallelujah!). I am an unapologetic Francophile, having had the pleasure (and sometimes pain) of living in Paris for a year in the 1970s. I got through the pandemic by knitting, reading and spending one hour a week outside socially distancing while sharing coffee and consolation with my dear friend Ginger and her kittens.
Come along with me on this journey.