Rest in peace.

After a two year battle, Denise Roberts died last night in a hospice at 10:55pm surrounded by her family. The cause was pancreatic cancer. I am glad she is finally free of pain.

DEATH be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me.
From rest and sleepe, which but thy pictures bee,
Much pleasure, then from thee, much more must flow,
And soonest our best men with thee doe goe,
Rest of their bones, and soules deliverie.
Thou art slave to Fate, Chance, kings, and desperate men,
And dost with poyson, warre, and sicknesse dwell,
And poppie, or charmes can make us sleepe as well,
And better then thy stroake; why swell'st thou then;
One short sleepe past, wee wake eternally,
And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die."

-- John Donne (1572-1631)

"Be yourself. Everyone else is already taken." -- Oscar Wilde

They still remembered me at the gym this morning, even though I swear I've not been there for a month. Through the holiday weeks, I've continued to lose weight, though I fear some of what I lost was muscle. It felt good to get a good workout after being housebound so long.

I just had lunch with Juliana, my CPA. She's been that for nearly 15 years because of her rich sense of irony. We ate elegantly at the Taste Cafe at the Seattle Art Museum, then did a bit of shopping afterwards. The Wilde quote is on some cocktail napkins I bought, complete with an eye-popping illustration.

Winds of change.

So the snow has all but disappeared in the Ravenna area, and 45 mph winds are drying things out! And the sun is shining now, after the rains essentially wiped everything clean.

In my weekly column to staff, I indicated that I have made "to not do" resolutions.

In 2009, I will try not to:

Count on something before it is real.

Lose sight of the fact that I can replace my job but not my family.

Set my goals and my expectations so high that I disappoint myself.

Lose sight of the needs of others in a tough economic environment.

Forget that humor and grace and a sense of proportion are invaluable.


I'm taking the winds blowing outside as my cue to declutter the house and prepare to start a new year. I love decorating, the tree, the gifts, the lights....but I also love clean lines and the metaphor of clearing up. By Saturday, I may be able to do some winter gardening. Bring on the garbage and recycling trucks!

Soul Food.

Every year the poet Jim Dodge makes a poem and prints it on the winter solstice at Tangram Press. We look forward to his annual envelope with letter and poem. Unfailingly, the poem provides a bridge to the future. Here are the first lines of this year's poem, titled "The Sanctuary of Light."

When pressed, stressed, fearful, unsure,
Simply slip back to the composing core
Of what you were, will be, and eternally are:
Pure energy vibrating between particle and wave.

Christmas Day 2008

There is nothing like opening presents, especially when there are fewer of them and they all are perfect. Here, based on my performance with a beautiful delicate ornament that Lauren gave me last week, Leroy is holding the delicate object as he pulls it up out of its packing.

It is a "peaches and peony" Chinese vase from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, from my sister Mary and her husband Paul.

Here James examines his big present from Leroy and I this year: all eight volumes of the collected papers of Charles Sanders Pierce, plus a biography of Pierce, collected meticulously online by Leroy for James from many used bookstores or collectors.

Here Leroy and James are looking at a biography of the great naturalist John Muir which James got for Leroy.

My most remarkable present today was an email from the high school teacher who taught me literature, the classics, trumpet and voice. I had mentioned Mr. Larson in a profile which my home town paper did of me recently. Mr. Larson made such an impact on those he taught --not only fiction or poetry or plays, but he read us short stories by Thurber, Mencken, and Hemingway. He put up with requests from our girls' sextet to arrange songs like "To Know Know Know Him is to Love Love Love Him." And he offered an after-school classics seminar to a few of us who were interested. He conducted the band and the chorus, and once or twice a year he and his glamorous wife Lucille (also a teacher) sang duets at the end of a concert. Like my husband, he was truly a renaissance man who did many things well. Mr. Larson had a profound influence on me, which led to two degrees in literature.

I have not heard from Mr. Larson since I left high school, over 40 years ago. His email today took me back to the classroom and the sound of his voice reading to us about a world we had only begun to understand. I remember now why I might have had something to do with his reading aloud.

Way back when, someone left a note on my desk: "It is the custom on rainy days to read stories to the class." You, for one, are unforgettable. Thank you so much for your recent remembrance of me.

And more snow!

Here is the view from the upstairs reading room today, Monday morning about 11am...

Here is one of Leroy's open house concoctions, pannetonne bread, for the feast we had last Saturday evening with about 30 intrepid souls who ventured out in the storm.

We actually went out late yesterday afternoon in the Audi, up the hill to Suzie's open house. It was still snowing. These last two are shots from the front porch also about 11am today.

James got to Cincinnati, where his flight to Seattle was not available. They are backtracking him to Manhattan, where he's ticketed for a direct flight to arrive around midnight. We have our fingers crossed on weather, which right now looks good for New York, with all runways open in Seattle.

All is bright.

I am now officially on vacation from this evening through the end of next week. Earlier today, I shot some photos of the snow.

I worked today from home, like many Seattleites, bedazzled by the beauty of the snow and the sunshine in 25 degree temperatures.

What amazed me most last night was the absolute silence of the street, with no cars moving. That silence followed hours of neighborhood kids sledding down this hill yesterday, and again today. I was tempted to join them. I remember well how it felt to be cold but exhilarated, going fast on a sled down the hill on a sunny day when there was no school....how it felt when it got dark, and I resisted my mother's voice calling us in for dinner, to get just one more ride in.

Tonight, the first celebration of my vacation: Lauren, home from UNC at Chapel Hill, came to dinner. She is the most appreciative eater that Leroy ever cooks for, so he made her salmon with strawberries, his special little red potatoes in a creamy sauce, and a tofu-cabbage-mushroom-celery-sauerkraut side vegetable dish. Lauren has bandwidth in so many areas of interest, born probably in part out of her time as a reporter. Her work seems to be going well, as she juggles a full load of courses with being a teaching assistant. We hope to see her again several times at least while she is home. And next spring, when I take my train rides around the country with my camera, I have already checked to be sure that I can stop in Chapel Hill and spend some time with her. She is a person I know that I will care about all my life.