I once met a woman at a gift shop on the Oregon Coast who was amazed to find that I was there alone. She felt so sorry for me that she asked me to join her family for lunch. I couldn’t believe it was so unusual for a woman of a certain age to be travelling on her own. I’ve had similar encounters in far-flung places in South America and China, which were somewhat understandable, I guess, but the safe, close-to-home Oregon Coast? I really didn’t see how some women could be so protected and so cloistered from the world. Simple necessity gave me license to move about the world unaccompanied. I had no partner. Whether that was a tragedy or a gift is still open for discussion. I can see it both ways. Continue reading


My ventures from the room became more frequent and it was generally the same route. The nurse walked alongside me as I haltingly put one foot in front of the other moving down the hall past the other residents lying in their beds so much worse off than me. The guy with the metal halo around his head and casts on both arms and legs, the mummy with the bandages covering every inch of his or her skin, and the boy who looked okay, just asleep, but wasn’t either. Continue reading

Cook’s Corner

“Let’s ride,” the road captain called out. My husband and I threw on our helmets, and jumped on our Harley Ultra touring bike. When the HOG moved, you’d better move quickly or get left behind. I held on tight as Frank upshifted through his gears to keep up with the other riders. Continue reading