Author: carmen

Aging & Dying, Life of Carmen, Non Moms

I have no pictures of my mother

I remember my mother as a small solidly built woman with eyes like angry blue marbles. I see her sitting at the kitchen table, smoking Matinée Lights and drinking cold coffee. I can’t remember ever having had a real conversation with her. We hardly knew each other except as adversaries.

Aging & Dying, Bicycles, Life of Carmen, Politics & Activism

Robin under the hawthorn tree

We buried Robin’s ashes yesterday in the roots of a black hawthorn tree out behind the Gumboot. As the tree went into the ground three eagles circled overhead, and it being Roberts Creek, a few lazy dogs and feral children wandered through the circle of held hands. Someone blew marijuana smoke from a fancy glass …