Still Amazed
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BlogAboutSearch
Still Amazed
A place to pause
Teaching & LearningInterviewsStories & SnippetsMore
Happiness Happens
Happiness Happens
Small PleasurescynthiaAugust 1, 2007Italy, Fariba, train ride, summer, Hollister House, Edith Wharton, Zio Francesco Comments
A Little City Finds Its Voice
A Little City Finds Its Voice
CommentarycynthiaJuly 28, 2007Buellton Comment
On the Shore of Twenty-Something
On the Shore of Twenty-Something
Memoir, TeachingcynthiaJuly 22, 2007Facebook, Ming, Parker Comments
Summer Voyage
Summer Voyage
Ranch LifecynthiaJuly 5, 2007faraway daughter, summer, Gaviota, Jane Hollister Wheelwright Comments
A Declaration of Independence … and Thank You, Keith Olbermann
A Declaration of Independence … and Thank You, Keith Olbermann
CommentarycynthiaJuly 4, 2007Comment
One Tree
One Tree
Finding Hope, Ranch LifecynthiaJune 28, 2007Tony Ochoa, oral history, local history, Gaviota, Hollister Ranch, trees, Bulito Canyon Comments
Time Traveling
Time Traveling
Family History, MemoircynthiaJune 27, 2007Ellis Island, grandfather, immigration, Italy, Nuovomondo, time travel, family histroy Comment
Core ‘Ngrato
Core ‘Ngrato
Family History, MemoircynthiaJune 18, 2007father, Italian songs, Saverio William Carbone, letters, family Comment
Hospitality
Hospitality
Ranch Life, MemoircynthiaJune 15, 2007bike rides, Chinese pears, neighbors, Margaret, Lee, Lee Harrington, Chinese pear, memoir, friends, hospitalityComment
Newer Older
Lines and reflections Fog at play. A hike with friends...foolproof remedy for the blues. We’re fortified now. A storied old house: “Outdoors the wind./Indoors the locked heart and the lost key.” (Louis Macniece) We ran into a skeleton, a miniature mule, and Milly today. I’m obsessed. Can you blame me?! Looking out towards Gaviota Peak the fog considers a comeback Ranch roads on this late summer morning... red vein veterinary lesson best kind of welcome Well, THIS was unexpected. And this is how we are getting to know the infinitely fascinating and oh-so-faraway Felix...sigh. When a friend calls to me from the road And slows his horse to a meaning walk, I don't stand still and look around On all the hills I haven't hoed, And shout from where I am, What is it? No, not as there is a time to talk. I thrust my hoe in th In a dark time the eye begins to see (Roethke) a walk adorned by swirls of fog The shy return of clouds.
“Instructions for living a life. Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.”
— Mary Oliver
 

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