Author Archives: janishaag

We sailed out further than I ever imagined and turned to look back, gauge the distance, watch the changing sky. I tell her I do not think we are alone in this world though the shore is all we know, … Continue reading →

That was the subject line of an email I got from Dick today. The first line of the email was: “BAD yellowjackets!!!!!!” And what followed was a series of photos—some of which I shot, some of which he shot—of my … Continue reading →

muckle 1. (chiefly Scotland) A great amount. So first, to call it “the big muckle” is a wee bit redundant, it seems to me, but you’ve gotta hand it to the Scots when it comes to a fine word. And … Continue reading →

In our family, there was no clear line between religion and fly fishing. —Norman Maclean, “A River Runs Through It” Let him be standing just like that, legs apart in the stream, one hand on the rod, the other pulling … Continue reading →

…this woman was laboring to bring this little blonde girl into the world, a baby showing up early (a habit not cultivated for the rest of her life), the baby tiny at 5 pounds-ish, the woman, even pregnant, lithe and … Continue reading →

Today I shall behave as if this day is the day I will be remembered. —Dr. Seuss Did any of them think that as they went into work Thursday morning, that this would be the day they would be remembered, … Continue reading →

It was her brother who gave her the nickname. Kevin was all of 3, doing battle with words that wouldn’t wrap around his tongue quite right, including his older sister’s name. Consequently, Lauren came out Nonen. He became Kebbin, as … Continue reading →

That song, a big hit in 1963-64, just cracked you up and cracked up your daughters, too: Hello, Muddah, Hello, Faddah, Here I am at Camp Granada, Camp is very entertaining, And they say we’ll have some fun if it … Continue reading →

I am awed by people who do what seem to me impossible feats. My friend Ed Cole, for example, who, bit by bit, is hiking the Pacific Crest Trail, which runs 2,650 miles from the Mexican border to Canada through … Continue reading →

Sue Lester was (luckily for me) the girl next door when my parents moved my sister and me in 1966 to this out-of-the-way place next to a lake named Folsom. Sue and I were 8 years old, though she would … Continue reading →