Posts Tagged Under Marin
Wild Man
Courtesy,www.castlegar.ca
My husband David loves fishing. I married a man whose Dad would drop him off with his rod, reel, and bait at a fishing spot in Greenbrae and not come back to get him for a few hours. David spends a good part of our summers plotting his next fishing trip. He will search for the perfect fly, make dates with experienced guides, e-mail back and forth to his fishing buddy, and more, just to be able to cast his line in clean waters and catch and release rainbow trout.
Upon his return, I take in his fishing stories with all the interest I can muster as I love fish, but that is when I am eating them. I call him a “Wild Man” as he recounts hiking through treacherous brambles where fresh mountain lion droppings are evident on boulders nearby. Continue… »
By Cynthia RoveroMarin Mommies
Living in Marin County, you can’t help but notice the sweet pheromones of the powerful women who prowl the streets. It’s Clan MILF vs. Clan Cougar, and every mom KNOWS to which clan she belongs.
Clan MILF meets at the Mill Valley Depot for coffee. Surrounded by her young, 3.5 blond-ish children (their hair might be a tinge of green from too much swim team at The Club) the MILF’s coffee cup is recyclable and re-useable, and her coffee beans are 100% happily grown by cheery, eager, South American farmers. Her muffin has no preservatives, no fructose, no flavor.
And her heart goes out to the children who have to wear clothes made from synthetic fibers, instead of 100% organic, sheep-chewed cotton. Oh, forget those plastic baby bottles filled with BPAs — she was an early adaptor and switched to Kleen Kanteen years ago, right after the fertility drugs kicked in.
Clan Cougar meets at Bungalow 44, Buckeye Roadhouse, and D’Angelos, or places just like them. Coiffed in her salon-fresh highlights and paralyzed forehead, the Cougar’s hyper-vigilance about raising her now high-school aged children has relaxed, unlike her brows, and she’s looking to fill some me time. Her first husband has been dumped and now she’s single, sassy and looking for a little more carnal fun.
Let the cleavage begin! Continue… »
By Annie YearoutHigh Expectation May Be Too High
Last Thursday I went to hear Madeline Levine talk about her new book called The Price of Privilege. She writes about an epidemic of depression, anxiety and substance abuse in children in middle to upper class areas, such as Marin.
Since my daughter is only two, I do not have experience raising an adolescent in Marin, but I do have a great deal of experience teaching adolescents.
Looking back on my high school teaching career, a major cause of this burgeoning epidemic is clear: the emphasis on performance rests at the heart of the problem.
By adminWhat Are We Fighting For?
My seven-years old son asked me recently, “Mom, is war ever good?” We were driving in beautiful Marin, past the emerald green hills and the sparkling blue water of San Francisco Bay.
I paused, and my thoughts raced through my head, searching for just the right words and just the right message. I thought of all the articles and books I ever read as a teacher and as a mother on explaining complicated issues to young children. My brain quickly turned up the information it retained on the warfare philosophy and latest war-related news, complete with visual images seen on TV and computer screens, as well as latest war casualties’ statistics. What could I answer to a seven-year old?
Suddenly, I recalled the familiar voice of my mother telling me stories of her growing up in Russia during and after WWII. It was her voice that made my throat tighten, my heart beating rapidly, my mind still desperately searching for words. I sensed that my answer was not instantly coming, and I said, “Let me think about it, okay?”
By Svetlana NikitinaWhen Two Moms Come Together Over a Beloved Child
I arrived just as the dance recital was beginning. I looked around for a friend whose daughter goes to middle school with my stepson, Jay.
I took a seat and saw somebody waving at me from the front row. It wasn’t my friend. It was my stepson’s mother, Nancy.
I slowly waved back. We’ve had an uneasy alliance over the years so I was uncertain how to react.
By adminPreservatives
There comes a time in every woman’s life when you realize that you’re considered older by the general populace.
Perhaps it’s being referred to as “ma’am” more often than the youthful “miss.” Or having your children wonder what those “stripes” are on your forehead. You may realize that your dentist isn’t discussing clean gums and plaque build-up so much as preserving your teeth and anticipated root canals. Yet, I still kind of hope that I’ll be carded at BevMo, as unrealistic as that might seem to other shoppers with good vision. And I kind of believe it, too, crazy as that might seem.
I don’t feel old. I assume it is earned experience in dressing that prevents me from prancing out like a mini-clad socialite and not matronly modesty. I can still run a hair faster than my oldest child and hoist two wiggly kids about in a ruckus game of monster. No knee-hi stockings or Geritol tablets for me! I eat an organic diet and avoid preservatives. Age is an attitude, right?
By Maija Threlkeld
