Desert Magnolia

At the beginning of last week (Week 1 of this self-imposed distancing extravaganza attempt to flatten the curve and slow that bitch of a virus down at least a little in the short term) I was touching base with friends. There was texting, there were phone calls. There was communication of one sort or another. As you may know if you've been reading my blog for any period of time, I am, at heart, a writer. Always have been.  When I was in grade school and we'd have to write something, I would be jumping for joy and outlining and plotting. I guess writing is my first and possibly enduringly most powerful artistic outlet. I was born with the urge. This urge has powered me through a career, has provided a therapeutic outlet, and remains a soothing pastime even now. So it's no surprise, when faced with the prospect of time and space unfilled with the normal clinic, patient care stuff I thought about writing. An aside. My son is encouraging me to write about my mid-life shif...

Occasionally, in spite of our advancing years, an opportunity to be a little silly, to let our collective hair down a bit, to just be in the same space with dear friends happens. Tomorrow night, this is the case. Now, for the first time in many years my hair happens to be longer than either of the two women I'm referring to here, because one of them has gone chic short after decades of elegant, long tresses and the other has opted for a medium short, very sassy cut that suits her well and makes her not stress every day, which is saying something. So what I'm saying is my comment about letting hair down is really figurative, not literal. Both of these women have also opted to stop dyeing their hair, which means LV is salt and pepper and gorgeous, and PD is all grey and stunning. I, however, am still waffling and continue to highlight my hair and will until it's really silver instead of in between, I think... Anyway, these women are remarkable. Interestingly enough, we a...

I spent years writing copy. Marketing copy. PR copy. Website content. Collateral copy. Social media copy. There were times when I had to dig deeply to produce words that did their jobs, granted, but mostly I could just remember my basic premise/goals/objectives and something would percolate up. Lately I've been stymied here. I've been waiting for my muse to sprinkle magic idea dust on me that will then compel me to rush to my laptop and share with you. The muse has been messin' with me, so I've decided to resort to plumbing my own depths and motivation and see what I can come up with. First, why am I doing this in the first place? When I began Desert Magnolia I desperately needed a venue for my own thoughts. Spending my career spinning and generating ideas for commercial purposes had exhausted me in some ways but offered no outlet for my creativity or my own voice. So, I started this blog. Second, once the initial euphoria of having an actual, dedicated venue o...

My Grandma G just turned 90 this weekend. My Mom and aunts threw her multiple celebrations, and good times were had by all. Grandma G is feisty, intelligent, engaged, busy, and observant enough to stir up the pot in her family on a regular basis. Honestly, I hope 90 looks that good on me, I really do. On a side note, and for full disclosure purposes, when hubby and I tied the knot I made it perfectly clear that 'til death do us part means for a really long time in our family. Really long. He still said 'I do', but I'm pretty sure if he had thought seriously about it, he might have hesitated for at least a beat or two...I'm a lot to take on a good day/week/month/year/decade, so more can be, um, maybe more than he'd bargained for. For example, Grandma Alice was 89+ when she died. Grandpa was 85. Other Grandpa was 89+ (and had lived that long in spite of rheumatic fever, two major heart surgeries and general disdain for any food that wasn't brown and cove...