Happy Hippies

I said I wanted to compare the photos from my son's 2005 wedding and this summer's renewal of vows at the Phish concert - and here they are:
Yes, that is my son with his dreadlocks in pigtail form.
God bless 'em - they're happy!

2005 left
2010 right

Heartbreaking News

Our daughter, Sloan, is part of a group of six girls who formed a deep friendship during high school and have managed to maintain it even two years into their time at college .

I show them here on the day of their high school graduation when their whole wonderful future stretched out in front of them - and they just knew it was going to be fabulous!

They were lucky enough to live charmed lives with parents who loved them, a small town that nurtured them and a wider group of friends to hang around with.

This past weekend one of the girls, Clare, lost her mother. Having just lost mine recently, I know a little bit about how she feels, only I had mine for much longer and I was a grown woman with a family of my own when it happened. How does a 20 year old girl feel? A young woman who is not yet out on her own, a young woman who could have really used her mother's presence for a while longer.

It is perhaps the first taste any of them have had of untimely grief. You kind of expect your grandparents to die, but someone so close is unthinkable. A dark cloud in the sunny sky that is their lives.

I'm so proud of the other girls, who have rallied around their friend and tried to help her as much as they can. She'll need all the support she can get in the months to come as she gets through the funeral and then back to college where she'll have to pick up the pieces of her life and deal with these difficult feelings at the same time.

But I know she'll be in good hands with these five fast friends who will wrap her up in their support and love and, even from different college campuses, reach out to their hurting friend.
They're good kids. They're loyal like that.

Bear Warning

Here's a poem about Yellowstone I wrote for my National Park collection:

Bear Warning

When we pulled into the parking lot
it was twilight on a September evening.
We were the only ones there at this time, in this season.
It was an area of thermal pools in Yellowstone
next to a lake and a beach, the steam from the pools
wafted over the boardwalks like an eerie scene from the Scottish moors.

Right away we saw a sign that sent chills down my spine
“Warning: Bears are known to frequent this area!”
There was darkness in the woods surrounding the pools.
We saw a lone cow elk calmly munching grass
near a pool where humans were not allowed to tread.

The darkness continued to deepen.
Tom prowled the walkways with his tripod and camera,
oblivious to the unnerving atmosphere.
It was cold, I rubbed the goose bumps on my arms,
not sure they were from the temperature, or the thought
that a bear could roar out of the forest at any moment.

I continually glanced over my shoulders into the depths
of the woods, watching for movement, longing for haste.
A ghostly husband walked through the steam toward me.
Out on the beach from behind a copse of bushes,
a bull elk appeared and walked towards us,
his antlers tall and multi-pointed.

We stared at each other for a short time.
Although it was mating season and we were warned
that they could be sensitive and aggressive,
he didn’t seem to think we were worth the effort.
We retreated to our warm car, leaving the pools to the elk
and any bears in the dark shadows “frequenting the area.”

Denise Kalin Tackett
Aug. 13, 2010
Trip : Yellowstone, September 2008

No Good Pie

I'm sorry to report that I did not find good pie in Santa Fe!

The first night we were there Tom, Sloan and I split a piece of key lime pie that looked promising, but really lacked any flavor of lime.

A few days later we ate at a restaurant that bragged about their pies, but when I got a piece of strawberry/rhubarb it was okay, but the edge crust was about an inch thick. You can always tell the quality of pie by its edge crust - even if you don't chose to eat it.

I was hoping to pick up some fruit at the farmer's market to make a pie back at our casita, but the market wasn't open on most days we were in Santa Fe.



One morning we drove early to the town plaza and went to a French pasterie shop. There were tarts there that looked much like this photo - but we were there to buy something for breakfast, so we passed them by.

Later, when we went back to have lunch, they were all gone for the day. A tart is not pie, but perhaps it's close enough and I missed my best chance for it!

A Flash of Scarlet

This is an entry for my Quintet writing group's "Bird" project:


I am visited by cardinals this year. They have always been one of my favorite birds, not the least reason being you can often see them in this part of Michigan in the winter and that spot of scarlet in a desolate landscape is like a bright treat to the eye. But another reason I love them is that you seldom see them alone, they nearly always have their mate near by.

This past April I was writing a new poem for every even day in the month and I was also spending a lot of time with my critically ill mother in what would turn out to be the last month of her life. One day I sat alone at her kitchen table while she slept in her bedroom a few feet away. I had scraps of paper on the table before me on which I was scribbling beginnings of a few poems.

Outside her window I spotted a flash of red from the corner of my eye. On the branches of the tree near the house was a pair of cardinals. I don’t know why but, as I watched them flit about, for some reason they reminded me of my parents.

Even though my father had been gone 21 years at this point, when he was alive he and my mother had a close bond dating back to when they were 16-years-old. She was only 58 when he died, still a relatively young woman, but for the rest of her life there was never any other mate for her.

We were still in a hopeful stage at this point, still trying to believe there was a chance she would overcome this illness. But as I sat at that table, in that quiet house with those bits of paper before me, a little thought crept unbidden into the forefront of my mind. I wondered if this pair of cardinals appearing to me now was a sign that Mom was nearing the time she and Dad would rejoin each other.

I wrote this poem:

Red Devotion
There is a cardinal couple
in the tree outside the window.
He flits about much more than she,
hopping from branch to branch,
but they are never very far apart.

When he decides to fly off,
she follows shortly after.
An old married couple
loath to be apart.
Bright red devotion.


My mother died on a Saturday a little after midnight on May 1. Now, in late July and the beginning of August, a cardinal has visited again, only this time it’s at my home and it is the female alone. Each time I see her I go to the window and search in vain for her partner somewhere in the branches nearby.

I believe in signs and I believe that these visits from a poor widow cardinal are from my mother. Has she come back to check on me? To see how I’m doing? I’m not sure how to answer that; how to reassure this tiny messenger. Certainly it has been hard, but it’s supposed to be difficult to lose someone you love very much. I take comfort from the idea that she is with my father and that someday I will see them again.

So, it’s time to fly Mom. It may take a while, but I’ll be fine.
Go and rejoin Dad. You’ve waited long enough.


Denise Kalin Tackett
August 10, 2010

Santa Fe Thoughts

We are home from our trip to Santa Fe and I have begun one of my favorite things about vacations - thinking about it! It usually takes a little time and distance for me to come to any conclusions about places we visit, especially when it's a place we have never been before.

I have mixed feelings about Santa Fe right now. I loved the adobe buildings, which were everywhere, and gave a sense of age and a distinct place in the world. The scenery wasn't as beautiful as I find it to be in Southern Utah and Arizona, and I find myself wondering about Georgia O'Keefe who was so fastinated by the place and was so inspired with her painting.

I did not feel a spiritual connection there - which I do feel in the red rock country. I did not feel inspired to write much, although I took a lot of notes and may tackle some pieces soon.



I was very concerned about the food there, because my poor taste buds and stomach can not tolerate too many spicey, hot things, but for the most part I was able to find things I could eat and several meals we had were very good. It was fun to look through the books and magazines and pick out a different restaurant for each meal.

Unfortunately the Farmer's Market was only open on Tuesday and Saturday mornings, so my notions of going there every day and buying fresh produce to cook, did not pan out. And, unlike Michigan this time of year, there are no roadside stands of farmers selling produce each day.

It was good to get away and our trip out by train and back by plane were pleasant and uneventful. Our little casita we rented for the week was perfect and only a few blocks from town and the center of everything.

I'll share samples of any writing I do about the trip in the near future.