What I Know About Being 60-Something

When I was younger, I thought age came in only two flavors—you were old or you were young. I preferred young. I dreaded being—old. But I’ve discovered some things I wish someone had told me when I was 40. The sixties (not talking about the 1960s—the hippie, Beach Boy, maryjane toke years, ) talking about the years between 59 and 70. I haven’t experienced so much growth and change since I was a teenager. These are the years where the decisions we made in our 40's reap consequences—for good ...
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What’s With All the Dog-Crazy?

I had an epiphany yesterday while driving to town. (Writers do their best thinking on road trips.) It started out with me already worrying about the ranch dogs at the place where we plan to park our travel trailer for two weeks while we explore the Central Coast. Don’t hate me! But I find dogs to be rather a nuisance. Akkk! I can hear it now. In a country where an estimated 17-62% of people sleep with their dogs, I realize I am so politically incorrect. Most people would consider it a charact...
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Good Friends, Good Food, Good Grief Let’s Eat

Ever have a blast-from-the-past, let-the-good-times-roll, crazy fun good time? Just waved some friends off after they spent several days visiting us from California’s Central Coast; amazing storytellers who grew up on the same street as my husband and who knew the old crowd. I suspected something great was in store the moment Cindy began pulling frozen Cattaneo Brothers sausages out of her tote and started with a great story about the local legends. And the stories never stopped. It was an...
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Got the Hanging-Out, Old Man Blues

I’m retired. It should be easy to spend an afternoon in the hammock. To lie beneath the sky on a spring day and watch the cumulus clouds float by, to watch the breeze push the fluffy cloud bridge into a puffy old man with a sunshine wink. But I think I’ve forgotten how to do this. I remember from days past a childhood when the hot hours of the day were spent beneath the elm trees, just being alive. One day I found a patch of shamrocks in the lawn, huge shamrocks with four-leaf-clover leaves and ...
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Sharing the Deep Roots of Belonging to a Place

I recently read a man's journey of coming home that stirred a need to share my own story. This is a reprint of the article published in the Grants Pass Courier on Sunday, March 22,2015. I grew up in similar circumstances in Thousand Oaks, California, then a small community where my family farmed for five generations. My family lived on a rural road, on land my great great-grandfather Borchard divided among his eight children. The elementary school I attended was filled with first and second c...
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California Redwoods, ALS and the Elephant in the Room

I’ve reached an age in life where writers I knew “way back when” are achieving significant success. I count film makers, top-selling authors and trend setters among my long-time friends. These are content producers who have gotten lucky after making their way into their writing room for  the 6,500th time. For writers, professional jealousy can be the five-ton elephant in the room that seems to be devouring our share of the canapés tray. If our friends get to the tray first, then logic tells u...
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Blogging Cholama Moon Like There’s No Tomorrow

Here’s what I’ve been doing lately, since I obviously haven't been writing for my own site. I invite you to take a blog tour to see why, how and what I write.  There will be more. I guest blog about finding my writing authenticity on Andrea Downing’s Blog, My Word, My World, My Work  http://andreadowning.com/ or (as time goes by) http://andreadowning.com/2014/05/01/romancing-the-vaquero/#comments I blog about “Historical or Romance” on MK McClintock’s blog http://www.booksandbenches.com...
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Friends, Fealty, & Five-Star Reviews

I’m starting to notice a pattern with the reviews I’m posting on Amazon and Goodreads. It used to be easy. I had no problem explaining my reaction to books when the author was an anonymous name on a cover. In fact, I prided myself on my savvy and open-minded analysis. But these days I’m reading a lot of my friend’s books and I feel pressure to post a good (make that great) review. And I’m starting to feel like a marketing agent, feeding superlatives into the Star-Maker Machine. I don’t think ...
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