The summer before 5th grade, my father took me on a week-long backpacking trip in Glacier National Park. We planned the trip over the spring on our every-other-weekend visits. My dad pinned a map to the wall in the living room of his one-bedroom apartment. Back then, the map shifted from grey to a deep… Read More Making Memories Under the Big Sky
As I was driving home from work tonight, Corey Hart’s Never Surrender came on. You probably will only know this song if you were embroiled in teenage angst or young adult drama in the mid-1980s. It was the theme song for that. I remember it because I recorded it on cassette tape and sent it… Read More Do It For A Friend
I am going to preface this post with “No children were harmed in the making of the story” (well not permanently anyway). If you were a child of the 1970s or before, you will appreciate this story. If you are a Gen Xer or a Millennial, there is a chance you might be horrified- at… Read More There’s Something About Sticking with It
I was sitting at Finaghty’s Irish Pub the night before we were to celebrate the life of my father. I was with my husband and daughter and surrounded by my sisters, most of their families and my stepmom. Family had been arriving from out of town and were still trickling in. We are not a… Read More Don’t Miss the Joy in Grief
I think people fall into one of two categories naturally. Oh sure, people can change. People can even change back and forth. But we all have a fall back type we are most comfortable with. I think people are either hunters or gatherers. I’m not talking about actually hunting (although I am not opposed if… Read More Seeing the River for the Rocks
When I was a little girl, my father gave me a copy of Marguerite Henry’s All About Horses. He worked for a publishing company and loved books so it wasn’t unusual for me to get one for my birthday or Christmas. I loved this book. In fact, it is sitting on my own daughter’s bookshelf… Read More It Really is the Thought That Counts
When I was a kid, my dad gave me Masterpiece for my birthday. It was a board game in the mid 1970’s much like Monopoly except that players bought and sold artwork in an auction. I don’t remember playing the game even one time. But I remember the game. I remember the cards. Each had… Read More The Eye of the Beholder
Last Sunday morning at 0530, I found myself next to an empty field on the outskirts of Concrete, Washington. No, I was not deposited there after an alien abduction. Also I am too old to pull an all-nighter (debauchery-filled or otherwise) so I was not in the clothes I wore the day before, if you… Read More A Different Light
I like really old stuff. I have so much antique glassware my husband recently told me he thought we might have to fortify the foundation of our house. Hyperbole not withstanding, I have a lot. I like drinking out of glasses my grandparents drank out of. I like eating off of plates that were used… Read More Picture Meaningful
Confession time. I was a science major. There, I said it. It’s out. What a relief! Does that mean I am not also an artist? Well frankly, I sure thought so. In fact, I could make you a chart quantifying my non-artistic characteristics. (My friends are shaking their collective heads right now both in exasperation… Read More Confessions of a Closet Artist
I am a morning person. I love the stillness of the morning. I love the way the groggy silence envelops me. Everything slows down. Without the noise that fills every other space in the rest of my day, I can see so much more clearly. I can hear my own voice so much more loudly.… Read More Seeing in Silence
Catherine Matthews 