What’s Your Sign? (Better Look Again) So, you get up in the morning, settle at the breakfast table with your coffee and newspaper (ok, or phone or whatever) and turn to your horoscope. As you do every day, you run
This small pot is from the Santa Clara pueblo in New Mexico. It was made (and is signed by) Flora Naranjo, matriarch of one of the most respected families of Southwestern pueblo potters.
Dad, This is the second Father’s Day since you died (yes, I have to write it — it still doesn’t seem real). I miss being with you. I think of you every day. Every day I am reminded of the
(Things I find funny that almost nobody else does) Meat Clown (Is this what they mean by meat cute? ) I’d never seen anything like this before, but a friend who was born and raised in Germany said that
Tonight is the last night of (C)Han(n)uk(k)a(h). As I will on every final night of this holiday from now on, I lit 10 candles. The 10th candle marks the anniversary of my father’s death. A whole year has passed since
The Ecology of Dirt I have been musing, of late, about ecology and the ways in which ordinary (lazy) people like myself can make a positive contribution to our environment. In running over the possibilities, I have returned, again and again,
I collect miniature books. The first time I saw a miniature book (defined as being under 3 inches in its largest dimension), I was enchanted by its size and also by the possibilities it offered from a design perspective. My