Walking through campus to work today, I found several mushrooms the size of softballs. Big, round, puffy mushrooms. Think they're edible? I don't think I want to try it. My friend who runs the wild foraging project is out of town, so I can't ask her. Anyway, mushrooms in Arizona freak me out. I guess it's been a good rainy season.

Every May for the past four years, Sal and I have been interviewed about our carless lifestyle for Bike to Work Week. We've been on TV, in the regional lifestyle magazine, the newspaper and this year in the local alternative monthly. I think interviews like this are becoming more common each year around this time, possibly because Bike to Work Week ( Read more... )

This last weekend Sal and I both graduated with our bachelor's degrees. He's 39 and I'm 32--nothing like blooming late! It was fun to bloom together ( Read more... )

Sal and I went for a mountain bike ride this morning. I made it farther up the steepest hill than I have so far this season. I have a single speed rigid bike which makes it harder to get up hills. Anyway, I love my bike. I have bike love. And I have that really good after-ride feeling of energy and tiredness that I love ( Read more... )

We went to see Ladysmith Black Mambazo last night. They were spectacular! I knew it would be great, but they actually brought tears to my eyes a couple times. They sing a capella, sometimes in English, sometimes in Zulu (I think).

A history of their music from their website (www.mambazo.com):
The traditional music sung by Ladysmith Black Mambazo ( Read more... )

Nanny was the great matriarch of the family, but it turns out she was an alcoholic as well, drinking during different periods of her life. What was she like when she was drinking? Why don’t these stories get told? She has been raised to the level of a goddess in the Dodd family. Why, in a family of four daughters does she seem so remote in these ( Read more... )

Pop Pop was a great influence on who I am. I missed him more than Mom when he died. He was more of a father than my own dad, but he taught quietly, by example. He told stories about his time in the war, his days driving a logging truck, time spent at the mill where he worked for thirty years. Through these stories he imparted his values and lessons ( Read more... )

My therapist told me that I’m a perfectionist probably because it was a way for me to take control of an unstable home life early on, and the coping mechanism has stayed with me (and further developed) as an adult ( Read more... )

I often wonder why mom didn’t start hugging or talking to us more once she found out she was sick. It almost seems like she was trying to ignore the fact that she was sick at all. She told us to keep doing whatever we did, to stay busy with school and not put our lives on hold because of her. In some ways this sounded thoughtful, in other ways like ( Read more... )

It was fall when Mom found out she had cancer. All I know is how I saw it, or how it is set in my memory anyway. I often wonder what she was feeling that day. Was she mad that she’d smoked all those years and failed at her attempts to quit? Did she blame anyone or anything else? Did she think about us kids and what might happen if she didn’t beat ( Read more... )