Author: Gayle

Wow, it’s been four months since I posted here!  I’ve been busy, I guess.  And depressed, and had writer’s block. And was busy writing for my Creative Non-fiction writing class at City College. There were a lot of factors.  Some, I’m sure, I don’t even know about. I awoke today thinking about Thanksgiving, which is only … Continue reading Thanksgiving, 2019…

Hopefully, if we keep fighting for it, if we don’t give up, someday truth will come back into fashion. In the meantime, Do NOT give up. It’s what the GOP wants — it’s their fucking game plan, to energize their right wing base and to de-energize the rest of America. WE have truth and righteousness … Continue reading A little pep talk…

Flying, Phoenix is about an hour and a half from San Francisco. It’s so much more than that culturally-speaking, though not nearly as far as I imagine say, Mena, Arkansas is. After boarding the Southwest plane this morning, I sat watching the rest of my fellow passengers filing down the aisle, seat-searching. It was a … Continue reading Maybe I was her first liberal?

I arrived yesterday.  Mom was happy to see me.  Likes my hair.  A little bit longer. As it is now.  Once or twice, I thank her for the compliment.  The fourth or fifth or more times don’t have such a positive effect on me.  I try not to take it personally, not to feel annoyed. … Continue reading   A visit home.

One week you go to Provence; the next, the dentist. I just got back from a two hour session at the dentist office… the first half of the process of replacing an old crown and an old filling.  That’s what happens when you get old (enough). Shit! The work that was already done, ok, a … Continue reading I sit here eating chocolate because I want to cry or get a massage or let a kid out of a cage, all of this which I’m sure is a politically incorrect thought not to mention a terrible title.

San Francisco is being its usual summer-y self.  Cold, grey, and windy.  I used to have more energy for it, though never did I ever like it.  When I first came across a San Francisco summer — on the corner of 5th and Market when I was eight — sitting on the cold concrete sidewalk … Continue reading Grey Day…

The last couple of days I was in Totnes (pronounced Taut-ness, or tot-ness), I stayed at a quaint little hotel called “The Royal Seven Stars”.  Quite a royal name, fancy and all, but inside it was actually rather down-to-earth, as was almost everything about Totnes.  I would recommend this hotel, as I would also recommend … Continue reading Totnes. Part 2.