Tag Archives: Memoir


  I watched the eclipse. In Portland, Oregon and thereabouts, everyone did. On August 21, 2017, every local soul was outside with their eclipse glasses on, staring at the sun. It was cool, amazing, wonderful, surprising, and phenomenal, all rolled … Continue reading

Posted in Life Through Amber, Local Fair, memoir, Portland | Tagged , , , , | 4 Comments


  Last night I went to dinner with friends. We talked, not of clothes or makeup, not of shopping or movies or places we had been, not of husbands or children or illnesses we were experiencing. We didn’t even discuss … Continue reading

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My father was an immigrant. He escaped Germany and came to the United States in 1937. He didn’t talk much about his past, but he did tell about his first sighting of the Statue of Liberty. How beautiful, how great, … Continue reading

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  I always write out my blogs before I post them, but TODAY IS THE EXCEPTION. I’ve tried putting the significance of today out of my mind, concentrating on my participation in the Women’s March tomorrow as a stand I … Continue reading

Posted in Blogging, Crazy Cat Lady Mysteries & More, mental illness, Secret Soul | Tagged , , , , , , | 1 Comment


Last night I dreamed about old friends. It happens occasionally; at 64, there is more behind me than ahead, and my past covers a lot of ground. This dream was different though. Where usually I get caught up in the … Continue reading

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When I was 18, in the fall of 1969, I moved to from the US to Canada. I went for the weekend and stayed 10 years.  My first Christmas away from home was a little bleak. I was living in … Continue reading

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  The ocean pounds the shore, a peaceful noise. The air is warm, perfect. Birds sing, the coor of a dove. I have no place to be, no time constraint, nothing on my agenda, yet I am anxious. It is … Continue reading

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  DREAM The night dream lies beyond a closing door. A glimpse as I waken, Then gone, Shrouded in the wool of day.     LISTS Yesterday’s list: Meeting Work On time Concentrate Place dreams in the box on the … Continue reading

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I called her Mommy until I started high school. One day when I was 12, she took me aside and told me to use her name, Mary Elizabeth, which I did from then on. My heart barely remembers how it … Continue reading

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2016 – NEW ROAD

January 1 has dawned bright and sunlit in Portland, cold and beautiful as marble, but now it seems late to run through the record of 2015. I’ve already changed the calendars. Some things stand out, however, as I think back … Continue reading

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