Anniversary . . .

—From CB— Last Thursday we celebrated our 59th anniversary. Cornish hens, a good Chardonnay, a fire in the fireplace, and Elizabeth suggested a challenge: that we each speak of times—make it seven, as something to aim for—when we recall the other being especially...

Father . . .

—From EF— I am doing my best to assemble the halves of who I am. Eighteen months ago I met my mother’s son for the first time, thanks to Ancestry DNA. For forty years I had worked to discover my blood-root, the woman whose womb carried me, and though she had...

The Compulsion of Stories . . .

  —From CB— With Elizabeth and others, I’ve written 50 produced plays (ye gods, I just counted!), over 200 sketches, 40+ short stories, and now working on the seventh novel—not to mention countless press releases and grant applications (another form of story-telling)...

Fires Again . . .

 —From EF— Friday, people were already wearing masks downtown; I saw one young woman in a stylish paisley model. The fire was thirty miles north, but the air was already dense. Sebastopol is south and west of the last two years’ infernos, and we have a cooler, damper...

Individuals . . .

—From CB— Yesterday, Saturday, a friend invited us to a National Theatre Live showing of FLEABAG—the stage production, not the TV series—at the downtown Sebastopol multiplex. A solo piece about the performer’s sex life, death of a close friend, death of a guinea pig,...

Forbidden Dreams . . .

—From EF— On Saturday the 12th, we participated as writer/readers in a special version of LitQuake. This is a San Francisco literary word-fest that is now in its 20th year, and consequently spawned 20 satellite events throughout the Bay Area. Ours was in Occidental,...

Inmost Self . . .

—From CB— A few years ago, I attended a weekend men’s retreat. In the woods, good food, well organized, interesting men of all ages—I left dissatisfied. That was predictable, knowing me. If I hadn’t been a writer and stage director, I would have made a great...

Rivers . . .

—From EF—       I’m an Aquarius. I remember my surprise when I discovered that it’s an air sign, not water. OK, I understand, but I still have a bone-deep attraction to all things Water. I think it’s sensible that small towns and villages in Italy...

Frustration . . .

  —From CB— I like things to be over and done with. And get very grouchy when things go on and on and on. That was an advantage of our theatre work: there’s a point when it opens, a point when you put it to bed. Even if you love it, even if you have it in touring...

Home Free . . .

—From EF— Normally I write my blog entry on Sunday. This is Wednesday. This morning I was walking down Blvd Pasteur in Paris at 5 AM, headed for the bus that would take me to the airport and the plane that would take me home. Now it’s nearly 5 PM California...