We always begin the New Year celebrating in a very special way. It was 39 years ago, January 1, 1987, that Steve and I became a little family. To commemorate this milestone, we sat for a photographer when our son was just two weeks old.

Big hair, small baby, what a combination yet what an occasion to document with photos.
It has been an amazing 39 years of familyhood. I can't wait to see what happens next.

Our older son is spending the holidays with his in-laws. Today, he joined us for a morning at the beach.

With a glorious 77° day at the seashore, we were ill-prepared to be that warm. We should have been in our swimsuits. We are so out of the SoCal Winter habit.

Coffees, a long walk, and lunch at our favorite al fresco spot, made this Mom truly content.
Even the coffee was happy. So dang fun!

This is something I would like to start in our family. The Icelandic Christmas Eve tradition of Jólabókaflóð, or "Christmas Book Flood," was introduced to me by my Pennsylvania pen pal, Kim, when she sent me the very delightful Christmas in Wales.

My new holiday tradition is a unique and cherished cultural practice in Iceland, deeply rooted in the nation's love for literature and storytelling. In Iceland, ‘book flood’ is celebrated on Christmas Eve and revolves around giving and receiving new books, often accompanied by delicious treats. The night is spent in the company of loved ones, reading and sharing stories, creating memories that last a lifetime.

One of my favorite art galleries is passed often in our busy travels. On Tuesday, we decided we had time to stop and ogle art.

The Sebastopol Center for the Arts (SebArts) hosts an Annual Member Show, a dynamic exhibition featuring favorite works by its member artists. This showcase captures the creativity of the local arts community, displaying diverse personal pieces.
I invite you to take a pictorial stroll through the gallery with us. Did you find a favorite piece?
Diverse and interesting!

Steve and I want to wish you the Happiest of Holidays. Here's to a 2026 that is unforgettable (in a good way).

I just finished an amazing debut novel written by my friend, Karen's niece. Jessica Guerrieri has created a work that, while difficult at times to read, was impossible to put down.

The story is about Leah O'Connor, a mother of three who feels lost in her life and struggles with alcoholism as an escape from the pressures of motherhood and a strained relationship with her mother-in-law. The book explores themes of motherhood, identity, female friendship, and addiction, following Leah as she unravels and must confront her choices and seek help from her sister-in-law, Amy, and the O'Connor family. It's a work of literary women's fiction, praised for its raw honesty and relatable portrayal of the struggles women face.

Jessica's says of her writing, "So no, I don’t think fiction is a lesser truth. I think it’s the bravest one. We tell stories not to escape life—but to survive it. To make something of the weight. To transform grief into something we can carry. Something we can even, someday, set down. And then, maybe, we hand it to someone else. Maybe they hear their truth in our voice. And maybe, for a moment, they feel a little less alone. Fiction doesn’t hide the truth—it metabolizes it into something we can stomach. Something that prepares us for what we’re meant to survive." Wow.

When I saw this on Facebook, I knew I had to go. "Join Old Lyfe Alpacas for our last Open House at our Washoe Valley location!" It was free, welcoming, and incredibly joyful.

Since it is said, "A picture is worth a thousand words", these images should adequately express how fun our day was. I took over 70 photos and I really wanted to share them all. I 🩷 Alpacas.

Our local ski resort, Heavenly Mountain Resort, turns 70. It opened with one chairlift, and one heck of a view of Lake Tahoe, in December 1955.

"Seventy years, two states of terrain, four base areas, and many capital investments later, we're still in awe of these views and the crew we get to share them with. This winter, rally your friends, put on your party pants (err, snow pants), and get ready for nonstop fun, killer views, and moments that you'll want to cheers to as we get ready to celebrate the electric social and scenic atmosphere that makes Heavenly, well, Heavenly."
In honor of this milestone, I thought I'd reshare my only time skiing there (I blogged it right after moving here). It was in 1982, the 27th year of its operating.
My college boyfriend, at that time, was a huge skier and had a friend who lived here.  A 24-hour snowfall of 67 inches set a new California record, and he wanted to be in it.  I was a novice to the sport but I had all the equipment and the darling ski garb.
On the last run of the last day on Heavenly, I swooshed right and my left ski chose not to follow the rest of me!  The result was a spiral fracture and a "broken bone club" membership.
I was well cared for during my extended stay at Barton Memorial.  It was an event I will never forget and not the best introduction to Tahoe, but an interesting stroll down memory lane. It's hard to believe that is the one and only time I skied Heavenly... 43 years ago.