The Walk for Peace with Aloka, borrowed from the Facebook page. Everyday we call and often text our son in Minnesota. While he lives in a St. Paul diverse neighborhood not under attack from ICE, he works at a food co-op in the Somali community in Minneapolis where fear runs justifiably high. That business, along with hundreds of others, is closed today in support of the general strike to protest ICE. Over the last few weeks, our son has been trained and issued a whistle and instructions on...

What a year, just about everyone I know is saying. Here's some of mine in 14 blog posts spanning the seasons. Thanks for being here as part of my community. I wish you all your own everyday magic. Kat on her birthday one year Loving Kat -- January 3: " Grief is like a giant sack filled with large, angular rocks and also ripped up piles of feather pillows. It’s impossible to get hold of and carry somewhere that makes sense. It’s a mess for the nervous system too as well as a panorama of...

It doesn't take much to turn my inner bitch mites (great phrase from my friend Sara) upon myself. Sometimes the smallest error, flaw, or mishap sets them to biting, leaving tiny welts or itchiness for hours. To mix metaphors, maybe you've been in the same leaky boat at times also? I mean, who hasn't been brought up to be exceptionally hard on themselves or otherwise warped by the traumatic or haphazard dangers of their particular life as well as life at large? Having just turned 66, I thought...