On my last marker birthday I muddled over penning my obituary, my epitaph, or a real estate ad. Writing my own obituary was too weird. My epitaph was a no-brainer… Catherine (Clemens) Sevenau 1948 – TBD “How Did I Get Here?” And since I’ve been in real... Continue
Rude Awakenings
Writing about my past is one thing, having others read about it another; it’s akin to posing as a nude model in art class. However, standing naked in front of strangers (or worse yet, in front of family, friends, and half the town of Sonoma)... Continue
At a book talk at our library, a young woman asked me about humor, and how do you learn to be funny. I responded, “I don’t think you can learn to be funny. Either you are, or you aren’t.” Humor is often closely related to pain,... Continue
Why bother? I mean, really. They’re dead. Who cares about the past, and what difference does it make? But you know, there are occasions we do something for its own sake, simply because it’s interesting, or satisfying, or it feels worthwhile. For a number of... Continue
Many of us have too much stuff, and with the holidays upon us, more stuff can creep into our space. My dilemma is shopping locally, versus not shopping at all. I have grandchildren, and as much as I like to buy them presents, I refrain... Continue
“Oma, there’s dead people under those rocks, you know.” I glance over to see what Satchel is talking about. My four-year-old grandson is commenting from his car seat about the small cemetery to our left on East Napa Street. “I know, that’s where they put our... Continue
In 1943, my father exchanged his iceman’s uniform for a suit and tie. Union Ice Company was having financial difficulties, and Dad had enough sense to get out of the cold. Offered a management position with Sprouse Reitz, he had the option of running a... Continue