"Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?" ~ Mary Oliver

time in . . .

DSC_0009_2This is the 200th post on a blog that first appeared on February 11, 2011. It’s truly amazing to me that since then, there have been 11,070 views from 75 countries. Even more touching to me has been the gradual evolution of a group of readers who regularly visit the blog and who stay in touch with me about its contents.

In preparing to codify what I am thinking of calling “volume one” of “Mulberryshoots,” I reviewed about seventy-five of my most recent posts and am struck by the recurring themes of life and death, especially for those who are taken before their time and those who remain here to remember and to share wisdom about what we have learned the hard way. There’s lots of flowers, plants that were lost and those that took their place. Even more about food, cooking and its relationship to our feeling of being taken care of and of taking care of others.

I hope that the blog will be pertinent, entertaining and perhaps even useful to some readers. Today, I’m going to take advantage of a publishing discount and have volume one created in hard copy as a remembrance for my daughters and granddaughters. At least someday, they will have a chance to know me not just as a mother and a grandmother, but as the person whose voice can be heard in these essays.

Thank you.


steep hills . . .

DSC_0099I was talking with G. this morning about how sometimes we go through long periods of what feel like hard times. And that life is not simply black and white between happy and unhappy but often grey for much of it.

I know that one of my daughters, who seems truly happy now, went through years of isolation and difficulty, personally and professionally. Another has been having her ups and downs as well. As for myself, my clearest memory as a young child was wanting to hide in the kitchen cabinet under the sink of the big house where lots of us were staying in Shanghai while fleeing from Japanese and Communist armies who were fighting each other at the time. The noisy company of all my cousins was something I withdrew from to be alone in order to Read the rest of this entry »