You and I are obsessed with the look of a proper estate with tall creepers and twiner-covered wrought iron gates. Even typing this I tremble to think of the extravagance of it all. Just imagining having one’s morning coffee on a patina copper
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An amateur detective is a wild and highly-strung creature, whose mind trembles with each newly discovered (and imagined) clue. It is so strong and so persistent—this obsessive love. There is always another piece of the puzzle to resolve, to work
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I spent one of the happiest mornings of recent memory lounged on a chaise of Mr. Cassette’s family lake house dock, watching. Turned toward the beach, I lazily gazed as Mr. Cassette was bending down over the sand, head hanging and with quick,
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I was on my merry way into my newest Byzantine investigation at the W. Dale Clark Library when I happened upon the old club fenced in, like a wayward jailbird or some unruly cattle pen. My heart lifted for a split minute, imagining a resplendent
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The first time I was invited to today’s Architectural Obsession, I innocently accepted without knowing what elegance and assurance was lying in wait; a galpal’s request was reason enough. I was asked to bring a dish to share on this winter
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Fellow detectives, many gathered here behind this darkened hedge are not members of the My Omaha Obsession’s Facebook page, which is fine with me. I understand. I am fortunate to have met you at all. As an aside, many of my favorite exchanges
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Hello Hello Hello….mic check one, two, three…ch, ch, ch…okay, once again…one, two, three. Here we are… welcome! Ladies and gentlemen, we’re coming to you live from the Peppermint Lounge after many, many months of playing the truant. I want to
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“What brings you down to this part of the world?” I imagined the large, sharp, dark eyed building at 621 South 15th Street questioning me. Tracing patterns in the sidewalk with my shoe, I would feign confidence and blurt out, “I needed an up
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Anything might happen. I made the tour of the Field Club and Hanscom Park area, sticking to the sidewalks this time. A large home with a frontage on Thirty-second Avenue extends all the way to Thirty-third–it stole my breath again as it
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From a series originally posted to Facebook only. Mother of Miss Cassette called these the Little Stories and she quite liked how short and fun they were. I will be working to get these uploaded onto the website, as most people don’t follow My