I write in my dining room, on whatever laptop I have at the time. Donna works there too; that's her laptop on the right. Between our laptops is a sea of clutter—clipboards, books, pens, reading glasses, and lately, ribbon and paper. I bought the blue vase/pencil cup at a student ceramic sale the first time I was in college in Fort Collins, Colorado.

I cannot manage to eat, drink, listen to music, answer the phone, or talk to another human being while I am writing. I hope this helps to explain why you rarely see a post from me. Multi-tasking is outside my realm of comprehension.

Right behind me is a stack of books. We use the dining room buffet for plants, the printer, and stacking books.

Below is a close up for those of you who want to know what books are in that stack. The title you can't see is the Pop-Up Book of Phobias. Sometimes Donna reads to me from The Book of Jewish Values. Sometimes she reads jokes.

Over the side table that holds the plants, books, and printer is handmade paper art that I found many years ago at a Juneteenth festival in Denver.

To my left is my ancient, battered piano—a gift to myself many years ago when I emerged painfully from a long relationship and needed something to do with all of my newly-discovered free time. You can barely see the top of the piano below.

On the piano sits a bust sculpted by a great-uncle (my father, at 2 yrs old, was the model). The photo is Donna's great-grandmother, and the sabbath candle-holder is hers as well. The larger painting was something I found at a street fair in Santa Barbara, California and the small one was painted by a local artist in Colorado.

And then there are the tin toys...just a few of many below.