It was when I was searching and sorting through my old photos yesterday for a particular photograph that time seemed to stand still. What a wonderful break from the disasters unfolding around the country. I found myself deep in “remember whens” — such nostalgia. During my walk down memory lane, the biggest draw on my…
Tag: photography
Riding on the back of a motorcycle (Write Every Day, 22)
When my husband and I first met at Starbucks over 20 years ago, he was wearing his motorcycle jacket. Heavy leather, in red and black with thick zipper-treads up the center and at the pockets, it fit him snugly. I remember thinking how cute he looked and how his blue eyes were like crystal reflections…
Without My Camera in Hawaii: Questions on how to best use my iPhone camera (an addendum)
My camera broke yesterday. Unceremoniously, my little Canon workhorse just stopped working. The timing couldn’t be worse as we’re leaving for our Hawaiian vacation before it will be back from the “authorized dealer” to whom I have to mail it today. What to do? (other than cry, that is . . . ) I thought,…
Rx: Grab your camera and go! (Write Every Day, 21)
Self-care in these perilous times, they tell us, is critical. The world — well, the US — seems to be falling apart into a political heap of turds and every day brings us closer to the demise of democracy. I make it a point to be in the fight, to write and call my reps,…
Poetry: Using Models to Spark Creativity in Middle School (Write Every Day, 19)
I love using poetry in the classroom. We read it, think about it, talk about it, write it. When kids first hear the word “poetry” they usually groan (which truly breaks my heart), but when they’re given the opportunity to immerse themselves in the lyrics of their favorite songs, a tiny shift happens. Suddenly, poetry…
The Palace of the Legion of Honor: A Welcome Escape (Write Every Day, 15)
Temps around here climbed over 100 degrees yesterday, so what was a family to do? We escaped to San Francisco, where it’s always cooler in the summertime. In fact, it was SF Perfect. We made our way over to the Palace of the Legion of Honor. I’ve lived in the Bay Area for 30 years,…
When you live in an old cow town, they run the cattle down Main Street to open the County Fair! (Write Every Day #12)
We are a suburb of SF, but we are an old cow town. Today, all of Pleasanton lined Main Street, waiting for the cows to come home. There I am, one among hundreds. Maybe thousands. They rarely close Main Street, except for our monthly street fair through the summer, but our town is known for…
The Women’s March on Washington: The day we ALL showed up
I almost didn’t go. As I get older I find that I hate large crowds and this march promised to be big. My two teenage daughters had seen protests on tv and were afraid that something terrible might happen — and indeed, on the day of the Inauguration, terrible things did happen. But just as…
Hiking the Coyote Hills in the Bay Area Can Give You Hope
Sometimes, with all the heartache and ugly in the world, we need to escape – just to have the energy to come back to center, to that place of light. So yesterday, to get away from Facebook and the news which was minute-by-minute coverage of evil and ugly, we put on our hiking shoes and…
Flashback Friday: Summer in Greece, 2014
Two years ago, we packed for a month-long trip abroad, with two teenage girls. We spent one week in London, and three weeks in Greece, the homeland of all my ancestors. The trip was more inspiring than I could have hoped for and harder than I could have imagined. When we returned, I tried to…
In search of peace on Rt. 88
When you need to find respite — to find that place of calm — Rt. 88 through gold country California, might just be the road to take you there. On this two-lane country road, expansive, golden fields dotted with dark green oaks, wind through Jackson and then Pioneer. The road climbs up into forests of…
HOME: Life is a Blur Sometimes
I was just going through the pictures on my camera when this one of our dog, Toby, caught my eye. This is what happens when we’re home in the mountains — Toby becomes a puppy again, tearing after jackrabbits, deer, and squirrels. He becomes a blur, not unlike life when you’re raising two teens.
Barbara Ganias Comstock 