1950s San Francisco... On Haight and Belvedere, tightly wedged between my father’s dime store and the Superba Market, was Sweeney’s candy shop. The Sweeneys were a sweet white-haired couple who lived in the flat above their Haight Street store. Actually, now that I think about it,... Continue
Rude Awakenings
In 1894, Charles Chatfield married Nellie Chamberlin, a no-nonsense Catholic girl. Nellie was stubborn and headstrong, and although exceedingly religious, she refused to consummate their marriage. In frustration, Charles took his bride to the priest who married them. Father Carr sat Nellie down and instructed... Continue
I can quit feeling guilty about not sending Christmas and birthday cards. I'm partial to posts that are interesting, insightful, or just plain weird. Where else would I find a zillion uses for white vinegar, coconut oil, and WD40 and know about Randy Rainbow. I can... Continue
On his way home from the park, Emmett stops by my real estate office to say hi. “Hey, I haven’t seen you since you were a little kid, and look at you, you’re a big kid! How old are you now?” I ask. “I’m four-and-a-half.”... Continue
My brother, his wife Marian, and I took our fifth road trip to gather family history, sifting through county records and newspaper archives – finding local articles, and deeds. We made Marian come as she has a sense of direction. In the past four years... Continue
My son, Matt ~ When I picked him up from Moon Valley School, I could see he was upset. “Mom, do you know what happens to us when we die!” “Do tell.” “Charlie sang a song about John Henry, and when he died, they buried... Continue
Righteous Indignation ~ I pick up my granddaughter from school on her third day of kindergarten. “So, how was it?” “Well,” she says, arms akimbo, “they have a lot of rules here.” “Like what? “You can’t throw rocks, you can't throw the bark, you can’t tear... Continue
Born on a Minnesota farm, you milked cows and picked corn. You hated farming; that’s why you left Minnesota, that, and your mother always telling you what to do. She cried when you left home; you were only 16. You had nine siblings, all with... Continue
For years my mother followed me around, continually showing up in my stomach, my bones, and my dreams. She used to be a dull ache inside me, but not so much anymore. In those five years that I lived with her I wasn’t raised by... Continue