It must be said at once that the Tweed is a tidal river, not a fabric or some reason to make a joke about rightly silly British place names of which there are hundreds; this just isn’t one of them. Berwick-Upon-Tweed is in Northumberland, in northeast England and two miles from the Scottish border. The  Read the Rest…

I crept about my routine at the cold Airbnb, bringing my tea up to my room and putting on the space heater. I had finished Empire of Pain and was into The Lost Apothecary by Sarah Penner. Later I met Suzanne on my way out the door. “You’re so quiet,” she commented. “Well.” I didn’t  Read the Rest…

Welcome to Port Wenn! If you are a fan of the series Doc Martin, you’ll appreciate the reference. If you aren’t, read on. We went other places, too. The day began at the cottage in Morvah with the usual tea and breakfast and me asking Sue and Wendy what they remembered from the day before  Read the Rest…

The day after the election the pall that settled over Seattle was dreadful.  It was as though someone had died in every home–except for the guy around the corner who has had a big sign in his front window for eight years: No Obamanation.  For a month he had a Trump/Pence sign plastered over that.   Read the Rest…

This was supposed to be Pajama Week at Local Dilettante Studio.  Instead I’ve been swimming in my own fluids for ten days.  Warning: bodily functions to be reviewed. I squelched a sore throat shortly after New Years and was still congratulating myself when some unforgivably rude, over-achieving bacteria got into my left eye.  I awoke  Read the Rest…

I’ve had a cold for two weeks.  It feels like I’ve had a cold –the same one—for three months.  In fact, since September I’ve been sick more often than I have in the last five years.  I attribute this to an influx this year of piano students under the age of ten.  They are adorable,  Read the Rest…

Previously on this blog, my neighbor Gwen who knows something about just about everything had fixed my wireless connection (without my interference because I was asked to leave the house) and had cabled my computer up to the TV with the cable that she bought (so as to get the correct one on the first  Read the Rest…

My new student Alexis is six years old, directive– bossy actually–and bright.  She walks into the house in high-heeled sandals, and swathed in layers of leggings, dresses, and sweaters.  She comes into the house talking about the dog she saw on the way to my house.  She tells me what she has done in the  Read the Rest…

Last Saturday Joan, my friend with the theological chops, and I went to Seattle University’s “Search for Meaning Book Festival.” We had our tickets and were eager to attend right up to the day before it took place. Joan called on Friday night. “Who am I kidding?” she asked.  “I can’t spend the whole day  Read the Rest…

On my current austerity budget, I don’t have cable television.  In addition I don’t have a digital receiver since I did not have the foresight to avail myself of one back when the city was handing them out.  Because of the aforementioned budget, I won’t buy one.  Gwen my neighbor who knows something about just  Read the Rest…