The parade was always my favorite part of the annual County Fair. As much as I enjoyed watching the colorful show process along Main Street being a part of it are among the highlights of my growing up.
Read MoreOver the last few months friends have reached out to me with questions. Not necessarily questions where I might be presumed to have some expertise.
Read MoreI know my way around the cemeteries here in Santa Fe as I spent several months a year ago photographing them. In honor of the Day of the Dead, I offer you a tour.
Read MoreWhile my celebrating won't include a parade, I will do my best to honor my family heritage with a good meal, a drink and likely a song or two.
Read MoreI welcome the Lunar New Year with hopes that the snake will help me shed the things I no longer need or want and grow in new ways.
Read MoreChristmas stories and iconography are full of bright stars, yet there is comfort in the soft glow of the farolitos that dot the landscape and lead us gently to our destinations.
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Bordeaux, with its elegant 18th buildings, open public squares, and bustling shopping streets, could not have been more different than the American West, nor more beguiling.
Read MoreAfter I moved back to Southern California from New York City, I took a quiz that said that my ideal car was a station wagon. Ridiculous, I thought—I was driving a racy red BMW sedan
Read MoreLike Santa he would always come at Christmas.
Read MoreLike Alice falling through the looking glass, we arrive in a mysterious space.
Read MoreI have been spending a lot of time with the Guadalupe over the last few months.
Read MoreMy Grandmother would entertain us with her stories. Some evenings, at our urging, she would recite
The Spell of the Yukon by Robert Service, the sad improbable tales of Sam McGee and Dan McGrew.
There were lessons in the lyrics.
The Golden Rollin' Belly, a pub with British pretensions and waitresses in wench costumes, had opened that summer just in time for the race season at the Del Mar track.
Read MoreAs I puzzled over the wide selection at Murray’s Cheese, the cheesemonger asked what I was reading. I said Hemingway's The Dangerous Summer. "Ah, a mahon," he recommended
Read MoreWhile I am not of the culture, I am listening, paying honest attention.
Read MoreWe were 1950's free range kids. Woolman Street was our playground—we ran down the sidewalk and clambered up the steps to our small yards and porches to play.
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Coq au Vin is the signature dish in my culinary repertoire. I use Craig Claiborne's recipe from the tattered New Times Cookbook that was given to me by my sister for my first Christmas as a newlywed in 1975.
Read MoreI am no stranger to graveyards.
Read MoreIt was my first time in the city, and I was, as New Mexicans like to say, enchanted.
Read MoreWhen I was a young girl growing up in Butte, Independence Day was one of my favorite holidays, so wasn't hard for my sister Dianne to convince me to join her and my nephew Eamon for 4th of July weekend in in my old hometown.
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