Faded Flowers

Faded Flowers

It’s a sad story attached to a round Danish cookie tin. Given to me more than 15 years ago, its silver-gray background pops with bouquets of pastel pink roses and multihued garlands. But I can only think of faded flowers and funeral wreaths when I look at it now. Why? Because this thoughtful gift came…

Women of the Wilderness

Women of the Wilderness

Will I be able to fulfill this ambitious agenda? I ask myself when the 6 a.m. alarm whines. After a fall a couple of evenings ago, I feel more like a decrepit gringa with delusions of grandeur than one of the intrepid women of the wilderness. I ache from head to toe before today’s leg…