VibrissaeA Collection of Cats, Facts, and Whiskers
Kayla and Amber Rose are wise in the ways of cats. No subtlety escapes their eyes. Full of humor and insight, this small book reveals much in its short pages. Well worth the time.
Vibrissae
The Adventures of Baby MoonCome and journey with the Goddess to learn poetry, mythology, and rituals for personal enrichment, transformation, and growth through 3 sessions of guided meditations. Choose from:
I'm so sad to say that my dear friend, Pati Parodi, passed away earlier in October.
I first met Pati in 1990, when she roomed with Mikey and was in hairdressing school. Now, thirty-five years later, I'm honored to say that Pati was a good friend, my confidant, therapist, and yes, she made my hair look great.
Her death comes as a shock, as she had won the battles of both epilepsy and kidney cancer. I hope she died peacefully, doing what she loved - playing Wordle and being with Charlie, the goodest doggo.
I will miss her deeply.
Journey Through the Tarot
We moved to Europe when I was seven, and my aunt Silvana once took us to a dark restaurant in Milan late at night, where I was entranced by their chicken soup with stars. The white porcelain bowl was so inviting, as I dipped and redipped the silver spoon in the flickering candlelight.
I love a good French onion soup - gruyere cheese caramelizing on the sides of an ovenproof crock, crusty bread now mushy with dark brown ambrosia, the contrast of salt and thyme to the sweetness of onions. I confess I tend to only eat it in restaurants, as there’s a lot of clean-up.
Lentil soup is comfort food. The Saturn Cafe used to have the best lentil soup with vegetarian chili and brown rice, served with a sprouted, whole wheat bread smothered in butter. It was a rainy winter during my sophomore year at UCSC, and I spent many an afternoon curled up in one of their booths, with my book and brown bowl of comfort.
Butternut squash has taken my fancy lately, in its homogenized box from Trader Joe's, the orange liquid pouring out into the saucepan in serious gulps. I'll add black pepper and sage, often a dash of nutmeg, a trick I learned from my daughter’s spouse, Morgan. It’s the perfect mug soup, warming hands and belly.
I've never been fond of clam chowder, either red or white. They smell too fishy. I am also turned off by beef tongue and oxtail, from the days of going to the butcher with my Mom when we lived in Luxembourg, the slabs of organs neatly lined up in the steel chill.
Mom used to make green soup. She would throw pretty much whatever was in the fridge into the Cuisineart - not quite sure what, could be lettuce, could be parsley - along with some chicken or beef bullion, garnished with a swirl of ubiquitous Parmesan cheese. We would sit at the white Formica kitchen table in Bethesda when I was in High School, watching the cardinals on the feeders outside the window.
Miso soup is a perennial favorite, but I stopped going to Mobo sushi because theirs tasted like dishwater the last few years. When I went out to the Nevada desert in my twenties to protest the atomic testing site at Mercury, I learned the benefits of miso and of studies in Japan of healing rates for those who drank miso after surviving Hiroshima or Nagasaki. I love chasing after the little white tofu cubes with my wooden chopsticks, the way the salty green seaweed clings to the side of the plastic red and black lacquer bowl, which always has a satisfying clink against my teeth.
Now I associate soup both with healing and enjoying staying healthy. Ever since COVID, we've been making bone broth from the rotisserie chickens from Costco, slow-cooking in the Crock-Pot for a good 24 hours, adding apple cider vinegar to leach the goodness from the marrow. Then skimming out the fat and filtering out the bones, looking for the wishbone, of course. Last, adding potatoes, green onions, carrots, ginger, turmeric, paprika, and a full head of chopped garlic (for those medicinal benefits) and cooking until all is tender. This I will freeze in Chip’s favorite little Pyrex containers, for those stuffy winter nights to keep the colds away.

Wonderful absolutely wonderful. Historically time and patterns repeat like the ancient art of storytelling, sitting around the campfire or the evening fireplace with full bellies and listening to the storyteller ( the elders), it’s a love message of I believe in you and I unconditionally love you too... The receding pandemic has highlighted these truths of connection. This delightful book should be read to not only children, teens, and young adults but also middle-aged adults too who want to remember dear loved ones or want to find a heart grandmother or grandfather, remember to seek and you shall receive ... Mother Earth is plentiful.. thank you Kayla Nona - Janice Carr
No longer
Putting my eggs
In one basket
Let alone many
I am empty
Containing the wholeness
of a life well-lived
No longer shedding my blood
This new moon
Let alone any
I am full
Containing the stories
Of a woman well loved
Spiral in
Spiral out