How to spend a winter Saturday in Seattle? With Uzbek journalists, of course! Too much fun!!
Just a quick note that I will be posting more “public” stories soon. It’s been a while! I often write and post stories on my web site for family and friends only, with password access to those stories.
I was raised to work hard – physically in caring for what I own – and mentally, in the work I do every day. When others ruin or take away what you love – it is stealing in Seattle.
I flew from Wisconsin back home to Seattle to my tenderly nurtured Christmas bulb in full bloom – truly a Christmas gift. (BTW, “tenderly nurtured” is a joke because I have a bad habit of killing indoor plants.)
It’s sad that so many of us in the U.S. – and especially in Seattle – live so far away from our families, our parents, our loved ones. That’s why spending time with my widowed mom means so much to me, here for Christmas in Wisconsin.
Most of us hit a career bump with an insufferably bad boss. Perhaps once in a lifetime you’re privileged to work with a boss who encourages, mentors, and literally changes your life. For me, that is TV journalism’s legendary Phil Sturholm. Today – in laughter and tears – we honored his wonderfully rich life with countless stories over food-truck funeral food of cheeseburgers and fries.
When my employer sent me to Siberia, it wasn’t punishment at all. It was a “once-in-a-lifetime” $25,000 train ticket on the Trans-Siberian Railway, creating on-the-fly videos and stories and unforgettable memories along the way.
A Seattle tradition since 1889, Norwegians (me among them) descend on Ballard to celebrate “Syttende Mai” – May 17th’s Norwegian Constitution Day.
Sometimes we know the end is near, and we prepare. That did not happen in my marriage. And it did not happen with my beloved feline companions of 16 years, Honey and Pepper. They were my faithful animal-shelter friends who filled the void of a marriage lost, teaching me love, devotion, and the power of relationships until death parted us today.
People are wondering about TV news “families” in light of the horrific WDJB-TV murders, broadcast live. I’ve worked in several fantastic places, but nothing compares to my first job as a TV news reporter and producer at Seattle’s CBS affiliate, my “workplace family.”
Seattle shattered its 1958 summer heat record! Results: tomatoes in my backyard, no-snow mountain views from my (nearly) backyard, Discovery Park, and a cool blue moon to boot.
Looking back, after an earthquake upheaval leaves nothing in my life at right angles. Yet, I am thankful.
Ash Wednesday: not a day for giving up, but for leaning in to life. As well, the anniversary of my dad’s sudden death three years ago. This poem hits my heart…
Tonight… lighting Christmas Eve candles and singing “Silent Night” one day early, in these parts…
Before I was born, you knew me. You sang lullabies to me, still unborn. You memorized my kicks, my restlessness. Wept with joy in hope, and wept with fear in despair: how to feed this unexpected mouth? Your first baby died – you were just 22…
It was my pure joy MC-ing our Central Asian Navruz dinner celebration (a sell-out crowd of 400!) with our Seattle-Tashkent Sister City Association. Thank you! – Katta Rahmat!
Not my typical Monday: Lunch with His Excellency Bakhtiyar Gulyamov, Uzbekistan’s new ambassador to the U.S.
Another reason why I love Seattle: Space Needle blue moon. I wasn’t alone. Neighbors, tourists, professional photographers, and TV stations came out to capture this rare, rising blue moon over Seattle. The next one’s in 2015. (Kerry Park/Seattle–August 20, 2013)
Five years ago this week I was exploring Silk Roads and back roads of Central Asia. Officially I was with the Seattle-Tashkent Sister City Association, an invited member of its 35th anniversary delegation.
These loved ones, our dead. Does healing ever begin? Is that deep hole always there? They say time heals, but I’m not so sure. In these strange moments, in everyday moments, he pops up. ‘Hello there.’