Fish Creek, Wisconsin

Fish Creek is a place where people go to get away and where my dearest Emilia grew up. As we drove in late at night, silhouettes of all the lush, my first of many city girl questions was,"so, would you call this the country?" She had to think about it for too long, so I don't think that's the name for it. It's a mix of fields of corn, peas, and wheat, sand hill cranes squacking in the distance, very old barns, lazy cow piles, birch forests by the lake, harbor villages, small town charm, and porches with motel chairs. On a trip through Point Reyes, she pointed out that it reminded her of Fish Creek, so does the show Gilmore Girls. Are you getting a better picture? I concluded it is the Big Sur or Ojai of Wisconsin. It's where everyone wants to vacation to and wishes they could find a way to live there, to settle in the peace and do something they love for all of their life. Well, the Coulsons did and do just that running the White Gull Inn, cooking up award-winning breakfasts, being modest town-celebrities.







Emilie co-wrote a play, Victory Farm, about German prisoners of war, who came to pick cherries in Door County. It's been reviewed in papers far and wide already, and everywhere we went in town we heard praises for the play. American Folklore Theatre is literally in the middle of the woods, and on the night we went to the performance, as we walked in Em said the air felt like rain ( city girls can't detect such things) and in the first couple of scenes the wind picked up like crazy and above the stage, the sky was lit up with a lightning storm, and then the downpour came. On our way home in the rain and lightning, fireworks from one of the harbor towns were booming, it was the best night drive of my life, a sky full of light and color. We went back the next night, this was the whole reason behind the trip after all, and I was in awe the entire time, to see her creation come to life with such amazing actors, costumes, and choreography. I laughed, cried a lot, and had a deep desire for cherry pie after the play. I am so proud and inspired. And I think about how we open worlds for each other as friends. This girl is golden.



Just a girl in her garden, in the low evening heat, watching things grow, opening her heart and home to her best friend and her family, probably with Brandi Carlile playing in her head, her dad's banjo song strumming.

On a peninsula, one side Green Bay the other Lake Michigan, fields and forests in the middle, you can spend your whole day dipping and hiking. During our visit the temperatures were almost unbearable, so we spent two days at the beach, lots of time cooking in the house with the ac on. I played bean bags for the first time and tried deep friend cheese curds, real midwest living, I think.

Well, Fish Creek, I'll be back for more summers, hopefully falls and winters too. I already had daydreams of J and I moving in. The Oakland Tribune published a piece about retiring in Door County, so I think the secret is getting out. They have a cabin on their property that can be restored, J's love of making and growing would be perfect for this town. I could teach, open up a shop that also acts as a literary venue. Things seem more possible here.

the freedom in us

How did the end of the school year get so insane? How did my allergies get so intense that I couldn't properly breathe for a whole week? How did I get 20 mosquito bites that are now looking like a case of chicken pox? How did anxiety creep back in, always on the 101 heading into Boyle Heights?

 Well, of course I know the answers to all of these questions and the only thing I have the energy to do is rest and prepare for my weeks away.

 To ease some of this building anxiety and stress I want to remember these words because just reading them puts my feet back on the ground.

 “WITH THE PRESENCE OF GREAT UNDERSTANDING AND FREEDOM IN US, WE CAN EMBRACE HARDSHIPS COUNTLESS TIMES WITHOUT FEAR.” -Thich Nhat Hanh, the Vietnamese Buddhist Monk as shared by Denise Chavez in an email about documenting 100 memories.

 The lone camelia bud sits and then falls and I would get upset that our bushes were't producing. But then I remember that we don't really water them, yet they grow green anyways. They could have died by now, but some fishy water plate is keeping them alive. The backyard one gives pink and white candy stripe buds that never turn into flowers. They fall where the swingset used to be and the animals walk around them and we don't even notice. Deep blue see through plastic rope, light blue plastic seats, iron and a blue striped slide. Red bottlebrush sticky hair on all of it. Push and pull, imagining I could fly over this house if I wanted to. But I didn't want to.

 Try it, write down a memory and share it here.

how things grow

We pass this community garden on the Rio Hondo bike path and if you know anything about Bell Gardens and the surrounding cities, then you know that it's kind of a miracle that something like this exists there. No money and very little community resources are pumped into South East L.A. and so I wanted to see who and how this was thriving, so we went across the bridge and after a couple attempts at locating the entrance, there we were in a homegrown paradise. And then there were the viejitos. Of course the old men run the show with their monster size nopales on every plot, rows of perfect lettuce, cauliflower and sugar snap peas. Good things are happening somewhere.

Noguchi goes garden

You would never know that across the street from South Coast Plaza, behind at TGIF, is a secret cove of California's best natural features, all sitting between high rise business buildings, built by Noguchi. Once you get past your jealousy that the people who work in these buildings take their lunch break in a redwood forest while looking at a desert cactus scene,well,then you can appreciate it.

Bibliofilles does craft

This month's Bibliofilles choice was The Marriage Plot, and that is one weight of a book and none of us were going to finish in time. Or maybe we didn't want to rush the plot line. At least, I wanted to stay with the characters just a little longer, to pretend I was fresh out of college again, faced with a love triangle. I could live in a romcom, or a romdram!

At an energy reading, someone told my I'm holding back on emotion, I have a pocket of sadness that I don't want to deal with. I have to really reflect on what she's getting at, because at first glance I am a constant outpour of a full range of emotions, all the time. Especially with this book though I started listening to more sad music, crying randomly on jogs: It let me feel things that aren't necessarily related to anything in my life right now, but I felt connected to all of it: what do do with love, what to do with an oncoming possible mental illness. It reminded me of extreme vulnerability.
And that's my book review.

To not miss out on quality time, though, we held a craft night instead. These nights fill me up.







Now, who wants to have a cooking night? ( I've had some of the best, deep, personal, and revelatory conversations with girlfriends while cooking, it's a good way to do and talk and enjoy and be satisfied)

the darker you are

I'm taking this summer-winter Sunday to get every last bit of just enough light while I sit here on the porch putting together the poems I want to read at an open mic next week. The sky is light purple blue and the moon is already glowing, but there's still enough light. It's such a treat.

This is something new that I just worked on. I've tried to get this feeling across many other times, but this is the only attempt that has even come close to expressing how I feel about the matter.


Were you mad when your indio daughter gave us
a revolutionary name
a hard to say name
names with r’s that roll-
and tanned her skin to
deep, dark brown, parted black hair,
all the way down to her butt.
There was no mistaking, that she was a shiny happy Chicana
fighting for her rights in her own VW bus
But then she introduced herself as Beverly and
white black brown, were confused.
It’s not quite the movie star name you thought it was,
where did a Beverly come from?
She drove from East LA to Commerce, knew she was poor
really poor,
but she had her NO accent tounge,
perfect Spanish on the inside and her name,
no-ita can be added to that!
She’s pure, three syllables of
you fit right in.

You gave her this,
because she didn’t come out with milky skin
or eyes like a messy blue storm.

You gave her this,
and she passed it on.

Didn’t you understand
what happens
when people get here?
They want to be
More
American
More
not what their skin
or voice
or smells
or sadness shows.

Were you mad when you found out that your granddaughter wishes more than anything to speak Spanish like it rolled right out, all natural, no books, no photographic memory to learn the tenses.

Were you mad to find out
we are who we really are?


Flickr photo user: gold_leaves

the world's first cactarium

I have a secret to reveal that some might be shocked to hear: I am not completely in love with the desert.

I want to be, and I don't know exactly why I am not, but the times I've been haven't proved as magical or transformative or drop everything relaxing as I imagined or read about.

But this place got me pretty close to that feeling. Moorten Botanical Garden's tagline, a living museum of desert love. You can walk around and explore different types of deserts and see spikes and colors of cactus you've probably never seen before. I loved the wooden handmade signs and everything about the place has the feel of hardwork, oddity and love.




We went here after a stay at The Ace ( which might be one of my actual main problems) and a long hike at Indian Canyons-I was feeling kind of out of touch, too many boozy gross people around the pool, and the grounds at Indian Canyons scream the 80s meets Jurassic Park, which is awesome in it's own way but I was looking for something a little different.

Back to the good stuff. And then you get to a greenhouse packed with cactus, yes, it exists, the world's first cactarium. I felt like I was walking into my own brain, the part that's soothed by lots and lots of potted things.




It's weird, it's small, it wasn't crowded and I bought a plant that I've never seen at any other nursery. Their actual house, located on the property, is named Cactus Castle. If I was rich and lived in the desert, I would create something like this too, but for now I have my own little growing patio and a commitment to find more places in the desert to love.

Update: After Fashion Intel's recent trip, I have a new desert guide that looks pretty amazing.

Inside an old Avon suitcase

An old Avon suitcase has moved from garage to garage from one sister to the next. It moved in with us over the holidays and we had fun looking at pictures I've never even seen.


My mom and her sister, looking exactly like Mona and my cousin when they were babies.





My aunt said I looked like my grandma in these pictures, I think she was referring to my weekend red lips and big hips...

Tech Fixed and how he can make a bench too

At my job in San Francisco, Jorge was coined The Renaissance Man because when he popped in for a visit he could fix just about anything that our non profit needed. Here at home I haven't given him a name for being so crafty, precise, and consumed by making and fixing, but I'm always inspired. While I always want to find the easy way out or just wave off something that seems too complicated, that's exactly what peaks his interest.

For Christmas I was thinking a lot about using it to be more minimal in gift giving and receiving, so I was firm and laid down the law of no purchasing gifts. So one morning I walked into the backyard with my eyes closed and saw this waiting in the grass:



He drafted the plans himself using wood he picked up and even ordered at a salvage yard, Silver Fox, off Cesar Chavez. The seat of the bench is from barn wood that is 100 years old. I know barn wood is verging on if not already in the category of "put a bird on it", but when you have something to use that's recycled and hand made, it really does feel so special.

The main area of his fixing talents are in computers, he is the genius behind, Tech Fixed. He can fix pretty much any problem you have with your mac or even pc. He can rewire an office, and is especially good at organizing small business tech needs like syncing contacts and documents ( which for some reason is the biggest pain in the butt for companies).

While he waits to get his master thesis ( the effects of deportation on children of immigrant's education) approved by his advisors, he is hoping to increase his business, so please give him a call if you need something or have a friend who does:

Tech Fixed on Yelp

Tech Fixed site

Tech Fixed Facebook ( where you can also keep updated on weekly tips to keep your computer in top shape)

Butterfly Beach

Can you believe that this stretch of Santa Barbara ocean was sunny, even warm on the day after Christmas? With all the day trips and one nighters I've been taking, I somehow never fit in a walk on the beach, and on this day it was one of the best things we did.

In all my time spent living four blocks from the ocean, I also hardly ever stepped foot near the water, but that's because of the oil rigs just off the coast that leave you covered in tar. But on this little piece of heaven, Butterfly Beach, right in front of The Four Seasons, that somehow doesn't happen. This is a good place to be alone and hear what the waves have to say.