Monday, January 25, 2021


Oh that day. Oh that remarkable day. Oh that day of a New Beginning and a New Start and a New Administration and a new new New . . . 

. . . and a day of Color.

Oh, all the Color that day.

photo cred: stolen from internet

The Color that day! The women in color that day. The women of color in color that day. It's all just glorious and heartwarming and hopeful and beautiful.

You know what all that color reminds me of?

photo cred: Kat Murphy

These beauties.

Kat Murphy seems to have predicted the color scheme of the gorgeous powerful women on Inauguration Day. She's smart, that one.

And speaking of those colorful beauties . . . you know when they say watch this space?

I think they were talking about this space:

And I think they were talking about these gorgeous specimens . . . 


Bring it on.

Monday, January 18, 2021

I Have A Dream

August 28, 1963, Washington DC

 Let us not wallow in the valley of despair, I say to you today, my friends. 

And so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream. 

I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal." 

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia, the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood. 

I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice. 

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character. 

I have a dream today! 

I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of "interposition" and "nullification" -- one day right there in Alabama little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers. 

I have a dream today! 

I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, and every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; "and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed and all flesh shall see it together."

This is our hope, and this is the faith that I go back to the South with. 

With this faith, we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith, we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day. 

And this will be the day -- this will be the day when all of God's children will be able to sing with new meaning: 

My country 'tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. 
Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrim's pride, 
From every mountainside, let freedom ring! 
And if America is to be a great nation, this must become true. 

And so let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. 

Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. 

Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania. 

Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado. 

Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California. 

But not only that: 

Let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia. 

Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee. 

Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. 

From every mountainside, let freedom ring. 

And when this happens, and when we allow freedom ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual: 

Free at last! Free at last! 
Thank God Almighty, we are free at last! 

Martin Luther King, Jr.
January 29, 1929 -- April 4, 1968

Monday, January 11, 2021

The 2020 Look Back

I was thinking back on 2020 and all the good things that happened (hello, great-niece; hello, president-elect) and I wrote a quick intro about this photo and the day Jacquie and I took this selfie, and am just now realizing this was actually February not January. So. We're starting the 2020 Look Back with February:

This was not just one of my favorite days of January, er, February --  it was one of my favorite days of the year. During my quick jaunt to San Diego, after a busy, productive week with Jacquie, the only thing on the list on the steno pad for Sunday was "drink champagne."

And so we did. 

We sat in the sun and drank bubbly and sang loudly and quite well to all the music -- (it was only right before I left SD that Jacquie pointed out to me that the whole time I had been quite politely and sincerely asking Siri to play songs for us, I had been speaking to her into the stand-up fan) -- and we had no other plans and we were both in the moment and it was lovely.

And man, we sounded good.

January, you ask?

Ah, January

What I love most about this photo is the Polish pottery dish, which means the Mitchells were in the house. Which means The Mitchells were in the house. Incredibly hard to fathom now. They were in our house. Like in our actual house.


 March brought the early beginning of Spring, and March also brought the early beginning of . . . well, of the way things are now


April brought the onset of Mom visits and the orchid and puzzles and oxygen . . . I like all those things deeply.


May is about Mom. And beautiful beverages in the newly-spectacular weather.


June brought us a bundle of baby girl joy. Oh my stars in heaven that girl. Both of those girls. And the most beautiful and outrageous flowers. I can't even believe these flower photos.


Yummy July. Summer and Hydrangeas and grape leaves and the deep acceptance of current life and therefore . . . simplicity.


August was even more deep acceptance. And butterflies and strolling through and apparently a lot of drinks.


September is HabaƱero month around here. And the Equinox and -- you guessed it -- more of the same. Which worked out just fine for me.


In October we got away. We got away! On a Get-Away. Which still seems impossible to have pulled off. But pull it off we did. October was also about the night sky and the beautiful Birthday Girl and campfires.


In November a certain someone won the presidential election and is now going to save us all from the current madman-in-chief. 

But no pressure.

November was also the best Thanksgiving in the history of Delivery-'n'-Pick-up, and it's also when the colors in SECT change from vibrant to subdued. But man, still so beautiful.

And December is always always about remembering our boy. And will be forever. 

And about Christmas, and about the year of reading and turning on every light one can see. 

2020 was a year for the ages, truly. I'm grateful for my home and my Field and the weather and my Mistah and my gorgeous gorgeous peoples. 

Now, let's get down to this business of 2021.


Monday, January 4, 2021

New Year Morn

New Year's Day was an unexpectedly sunny, gorgeous one, and we celebrated it the traditional joyful way . . . 

. . . we watched our nutso friends dive into the Atlantic Ocean.

Watch Hill is a magical place and there's no better spot to ring in a New Year . . . 

. . . especially when you're well-supplied on land.

. . . very well supplied.

photo cred: E-Beth

The peeps lined up . . . 

. . . the peeps swam . . . 

. . . the peeps joined us on shore. Hi Kathy!

Here's Julie . . . 

. . . and here's her girl . . . 

. . . and here's her doggie who is actually a man in a dog suit, a la The Shaggy DA. 

Or Please Don't Eat the Daisies.

Here's the lovely Dawnie who was smart enough to hang with us on the beach this year . . . 

. . . and here are the lovely Angela and Dave who were smart enough to swim in honor of their respective Nanas this year . . . 

And here . . . 

. . . well, here is the one and only Mr. Slips.

Not everybody was bursting with New Year joy, however. G wanted chips and was peeved her parents didn't bring any.

I feel your pain, G. I feel your pain.

The intrepid Mr. Dibble was once again our fearless leader . . . 

photo cred: Angela

. . . and the intrepid Mistah was once again our fearless photographer.

Thanks for the rare photo of himself, Angela. As Mr. Dibble quipped, "Always the photographer, never the bride."

It was a relaxing and chill day full of joy and hope and fun and bubbly even without chips.
And then we all went home. . . . 

. . . taking selfies the whole way.

Happy New Year, lovelies . . . 

Wishing you Peace in '21.