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What a Doll!
Prompted By Collecting
/ Stories
I found myself being seduced by hand-crafted dolls from different lands over the years, finding serendipitous treasures in flea markets, souvenir shops, street vendors, and craft markets.
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A Day on the Bay
Prompted By Boats
/ Stories
It promised to be a busy weekend. Sally had invited her dad to Oakland for Fleet Week and the dance card was full with things a veteran from the greatest-generation might like: a visit to Alameda Naval Station, the Blue Angels flyovers, a Bay cruise.
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The Last Drop
Prompted By Coffee or Tea?
/ Stories
My mother was out on some errand, and Susan asked if she could have a cup of coffee. That seemed important to her (we didn't understand the caffeine imperative yet), so my older sister and I, who had never actually made coffee, tried to rise to the occasion.
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Travel Bag
Prompted By Travels
/ Stories
It is remarkable how you really could carry everything you needed.
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Love Letters
Prompted By Words
/ Stories
My father was posted far away to Canton, but they promised to write. And write he did—at the rate of four or more times a week. And she wrote back faithfully.
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Garage Sale
Prompted By Shoppers
/ Stories
It was stressful to have the sale as it reminded me of the pain of packing everything up and moving. But it is a pleasure to see people walk off with their new treasures.
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Olympic Hopeful Adjacent
Prompted By Olympic Hopefuls
/ Stories
At best sports were a minor part of what really mattered in life.
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Forgetting, or Just not Remembering?
Prompted By Forgetting
/ Stories
Earlier, life seemed to be an endless acquisition of information and experience. More and more stuffed into my brain. At some point, that balance seems to have tipped into forgetting more than remembering.
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The Chinese Supermarket
Prompted By Supermarkets
/ Stories
My mother always had a fondness for the scroll of hand-painted figures, dressed in traditional Chinese clothes, carrying produce or hawking other wares. They were framed in pieces and hung on the wall along with other mementoes from her time in Peking (now Beijing) in the late 1940’s. She lived in a neighborhood of classic…
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Class of 1968
Prompted By 1968
/ Stories
I was in the high school class of 1968, indelibly stamped. When that year was still the future, it represented that border between childhood dependency and my real life, whatever that might mean. I had known nothing but childhood, but I felt ready for things to turn.
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