Do you feel it where you are? There is a growing cloud of despair and hopelessness in the world. I see it in the faces that I know… loss, depression, confusion, even desperation. I see it in stranger’s faces too, but it’s harder to know why. It’s there, though, if you look.

I can’t think of very many people who haven’t been touched lately by misfortune of one kind or another. I've even had some ick in my life. My daughter's been in the hospital again, and my dad seems to be going through some depression and maybe early dementia. I get that that’s life… sometimes bad things happen… but it seems to be sticking more now. I’m not sure why.

I think that it’s time for those who have hope to show hope, and maybe we can fill the gaps. Nothing major. If you have five dollars, give it to someone who doesn’t. If you see someone reaching for something on a high shelf at the store and you’re wearing your heels, grab it for them. If you can catch your kids or your sister or your neighbor, hug them. If you have a can of something extra in your cupboard, take it to the food pantry. If you have a word of encouragement or a song or a story or a minute to talk with someone who needs a friend, share.

Maybe if we make a point of doing this… even for just a week, we’ll feel our own burdens lighten and help someone else with theirs at the same time. Maybe we can grow hope from the muck that we’re stuck in. Maybe.

If you’re up for it, let me know how it goes. Enquiring minds, and all that.

Meanwhile, I hope for peace and joy in your lives. And hope.

When the feeding springs became dry mouths,
Alders lost their reflections;
The river bed cracked like a map
And she went away, following her own direction.
Plotted out in her last poem, they are taking her
Everywhere and nowhere, anonymous
As a leaf in the wind. But here,
Where she disappeared in the dwindling mirrors,
And her voice petered out among the stones,
She comes back clearly in her favorite season.
On this first day of the returning clouds,
Under the blowing alders,
In the remembering stream.

Who were you, really?
Who are you now?
You always spoke in coded messages.
What were you trying to say?
Was it the real you, tormented and vexed
Though mazes and nightmares?
Or was it just the claw of death
Scratching those indecipherable graffiti on the walls?
I have to know.
It’s too late to run any more.
I did love you… anyway.

This is my brand-new grandson, Noah!


Jenny and Layna right before Noah was born. Don't know why that make faces all the time!





My Layna. Isn't she getting big??


This is the house that I grew up in. The top window on the left was mine.


My brother David (holding me), and my sisters Lydia and Karen. The deer didn't have a name, as far as I know.


This was me the day that I was born, and my sister Karen checking me out.


Sibs, cousins and good-dog-Rex. I'm the blonde with the messy hair and goofy clothes petting the dog.


My Mom and Dad's wedding picture.