The Odd Uneven Time

I’ve borrowed (stolen, ripped off, plagiarized) the title above from The Unabridged Journals of Sylvia Plath. The mistress of confessional poetry coined the phrase in reference to another season entirely – August rain: the best of the summer gone, and the new fall not yet born. The odd uneven time. – but, for me, her … Read more The Odd Uneven Time


The Off Season

In my pre-move post (May Madness), I predicted that our Bealtaine-tide drive from Sonoma to Rochester was going to be a bumpy ride. It was, indeed. Cassandra, at your service. What I failed to predict was that the Rocky Road to Rochester would prove to be the easiest part of the journey. To those of … Read more The Off Season


Summer in a Strange Land

Seems sacrilegious, somehow, to be feeling down on Midsummer’s Eve. Even if it’s only a little. Some people dear to me are bringing aching hearts to a Celebration of Life this weekend. It will be wonderful, it will be grand. It will be just the party Mary asked for – a party that, for a … Read more Summer in a Strange Land


Vital Signs

My late cousin Michael was well and widely known as an activist [Michael Rossman, 1939-2008]. In more limited circles, he attained renown as author and educator (The Wedding Within the War, 1971). I wonder, though, how many knew he was also an archivist; the curator of an astonishing collection of art comprised entirely of protest … Read more Vital Signs


May Madness

In my post Midsummer last (“The Good Old Summertime“), I detailed my personal relationship with Bealtaine–how it had always been a wild ride for me, a time of upheaval and overload, and sometimes a lightning-struck tower style explosion of life-changing chaos. Then I had to go and tempt fate by adding, “Luckily, since I hit … Read more May Madness