Dawn? Maybe?

Rosy-fingered dawn, December 25, 2020, Berkeley, CA.

First words here in, like, forever.

Hoping words might help; a little bit Scheherazade, a little bit Harold and His Purple Crayon. A life-extending story told, a world of possibility drawn. Hoping that helping me may help others which (if value there be) will in turn feed into helping me, and so on. Positive feedback loop.

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A quick site maintenance note

Canvas, the WordPress theme I had used for so long and loved so well, stopped being compatible with WordPress several years ago. I hung on to it for as long as I could, but at long last it had to go. Until I get the new thing all tricked out, things will look a little minimalist (in the not-designed minimalist sort of way) here. Bear with me & come on back again and I’ll bet next time you’re back it’ll be all pretty again. [later that same day…] OK. Took a first pass at sprucing in the new GeneratePress container; still funky here & there but now resolving in its entirety. 🙂

Worth it

Avenger poster framed, with kid pics pasted over it.
The poster above my desk at work: a Lesbian Avenger broadside from back in the day provides backdrop for kids’ drawing & pics. Need I say more?

This past weekend I had the opportunity, as I often do, to spread the good gospel about queer parenthood.  My job affords me the opportunity to do this on the clock (policy and communications person at an LGBTQ family support and advocacy non-profit: boom!).  But I’d do it for free any day of the week.

This past Saturday, however, I might have swung and missed on the coda of it all. So I am happy that the occasion of the 14th Annual (!) #LGBTQFamiliesDay affords me an opportunity–and the impetus; thank you Dana–to right this wrong.  Even if it means I have to break the stride I had going here as a so-slow-it’s-for-all-intents-and-purposes-suspended-in-amber blog. 

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From the vault: The hitchin’ post

As seen in a San Francisco restaurant window, February, 2017.

[First published June 19, 2008. A little something about love.]

Fourteen years ago in July, I was on my first date with the woman who would eventually become my life partner and the mother of my children. How we first met is a lesbian cliché par excellence. No, it wasn’t on the softball field. Remember, the beloved is a femmy theater type. The other lesbian cliché. Right! A Women’s Studies class! (The colorful details surrounding that auspicious meeting are best saved for another time, or perhaps The Book, which, if I don’t just start referring to it somewhere it may never exist.) Now back to the business at hand, which is peeking in on our first date.

Read moreFrom the vault: The hitchin’ post