The stories in this blog come from my life growing up in a family that could never quite master normalcy (whatever that is), stability and good taste. We were and remain very much creatures of the place that reared us. California—a brassy tart of a state; all voluptuous curves, radiance and promises of heaven. But underneath her golden veneer she is cracked and always, always on the verge of breaking apart.

Optimism and vulnerability. Sunshine and dark secrets. Bold imaginings and fear of falling. These were the underpinnings of my childhood. I saw the world through the eyes of my mom and grandmother, sturdy working class women who raised me and my three siblings with an abundance of humor, all the while grappling with dark forces that relentlessly drove good fortune from our door. What they lacked in money, they made up for in scrappy persistence and love. This blog is for them—Pat and Winnie—the heroines of my life then and always.