An American landscape in Renton in green and blue. Go Seahawks!

The Ossorio clan poses with Rooster at a Seahawks training camp adventure.— Image Credit: Carolyn Ossorio
The Ossorio clan poses with Rooster at a Seahawks training camp adventure.— Image Credit: Carolyn Ossorio


“Can you pick up your media badge at the front desk?” Rich Gonzales, Seahawks communication manager asked me the other day.

“Um . . . sure.”  I was both thrilled and terrified at the same time.

Thrilled because I was finally going to get a first-hand look at the Seahawks training facility that I have only seen in passing along I-405.

Kudos to Rich Gonzales who helped set our adventure in motion: the kids, grandma and I were at the Seahawks training camp to watch the Seahawks practice and to interview players.

My football experience was limited to movies like “Rudy” and “Jerry Maguire” and I recently read Paul Allen’s memoir “Idea Man.”

So I had inked a crib sheet into my palm with the names my wonderful husband had supplied.

Jackson, Trufant, Stanback.

Continue Reading

My 4-Year-Old Wanted to Learn How to Cook, But I Was a Stranger to the Kitchen

Growing up I got the sense that the kitchen was the last place my mom wanted to be, or imagined her daughters to end up.

We were called “latch-key” kids in the eighties when “women who worked were having children and didn’t want to be stay-at-home mothers.” Or at least that’s what I read on the internet.

Back then the kitchen wasn’t perceived as a place of power but a trough of toil. And processed, convenience foods like Birds Eye, Lunchables, and Cool Ranch Doritos were the nouveau riche.

Scrappy kids like me cruised the neighborhood unsupervised and in packs wearing our splotchy Jams and checkerboard Vans to the local arcade for Ms. Pacman—our bliss.

When I became a mother at the age of twenty-nine I had never learned how to cook. During my college years I worked in restaurants and was fed by them. And by the time I was a young professional I ate a lot of cereal. Even after I got married, my husband (also a latch key kid and generation X’er) didn’t know how to cook and didn’t expect me to either.

Continue Reading

Emancipation Suit put women on road to freedom



Carolyn Ossorio has found Sarah Little, right, owner of Black Anchor, to talk about the many designs of the ubiquitous T-shirt. Image Credit — Carolyn Ossorio.


On Nov. 8 the kids and I will be filming a cooking show demo with celebrity chef, restaurateur, cookbook author and community activist Tom Douglas … umm no pressure.

There’s an old Loretta Lynn song I sing when I need a little courage infusion.

“I was born a coal-miners daughter . . . We were poor but we had love…and that was something that Daddy made sure of.”

Now I wasn’t born a coal-miners daughter and we didn’t live in a house in Butcher Holler. But our mamma, (we’re not Southern either, but whenever you sing a Loretta Lynn song, you have to use a deep southern voice). Anyway, Momma always encouraged my sister and I to never take no for an answer and to always follow our dreams sans Loretta Lynn.

The dream I’m following right now is a kids cooking television show. And somehow singing that song from the movie “Coal Miner’s Daughter” gives me courage when I’m doing laundry or washing dishes as the shoot date approaches and self doubt creeps as I’m scheduling the film crew with the Seattle Art Institute and devising intricate childcare options—I wonder do I have the chutzpa to do this dream?

Read more

Yes, with the help of Loretta Lynn and a new T-shirt for the occasion, I believe I can.

A couple of years ago I started wearing T-shirts in the same way Donald Trump wears three piece business suits . . . empowerment.

The favorites of my collection consist of Big Lebowski’s grinning Kahlua and cream smeared mug, Gizmo, and The Cat in the Hat. We can thank Susan Taylor Converse for that!

Unless you’re an expert in 19th century women’s undergarments you might be wondering who is Susan Taylor Converse?

She’s only the godmother of the modern T-shirt.

The T-shirt evolved from one patent of a one-piece flannel called the “Emancipation Suit” on Aug. 3, 1875 by Susan Taylor Converse.

The “emancipation suit” was literally physical freedom for women. Emancipation from brutally tight corsets meant to shape women’s waists into unnaturally small forms. It is suggested that the reason women seemed so fragile, expected to faint at anytime, was because their corsets prohibited proper breathing.

Today’s T-shirts have evolved even further and with modern technology it is possible and affordable to use it as a medium for personal expression.

So if you’re looking to make a personal or creative statement there is no better place than Renton’s own Black Anchor T-shirts & Printing.

I would pass the wee little shop at 235 Main Ave. S. in downtown Renton. Just the name, Black Anchor, conjured the image of a swashbuckling pirate and the desire to say, Argh.

Gearing up for Christmas last year I was on the prowl for something special for Amelia. I was walking past Black Anchor T-Shirts and peered into the store window. I saw a child’s bouncy and thought…it’s custom t-shirt time.

I telephoned the proprietress of Black Anchor T-Shirts & Printing, Sarah Little. I told her about my daughter’s art. “Send it over!” she replied and I could hear her baby daughters voice in the background.

Sarah brings her daughter to work with her everyday. I asked her what was her motivation.

“I do this so that I can work and be with my kids. I’m a big supporter of small business and family first and I’m lucky enough to make it work.”

Sarah certainly makes it work. She’s produced the Renton FilmFrenzy T-shirts. She also produces Mary’s, I love Renton T-shirts, and the City of Renton’s 5000 Facebook fans T-shirts. All of her business comes from word of mouth.

Sarah has made it affordable for me to create a custom birthday T-shirt for my sister, a plants and zombie combination for my daughters variety show and is now helping me with the cooking show T-shirt. I decided on the image of my hero Pippi Longstocking.

“I love Pippi!” Sarah said.

Of course she did.

I asked Sarah what she loves most about her job.

“I love it that people come to me with the craziest thing and they are so excited to talk to me about it. “Right now I’m working on a Free Phoenix Jones T-shirt.” Sarah said referring to the self-proclaimed superhero in the news this week that Seattle prosecutors might file charges against for allegedly using pepper spray to break up a fight.

I had no idea the history of T-shirts was so rich. And yet it seems very appropriate that wearing one emblazoned with Pippi Longstocking makes me feel a freedom from inhibition and convention—in other words emancipated. Look out Tom here we come.

I love suggestions! If you know of people or places in Renton that surprise, delight and inspire the community, drop me a line at Also follow Carolyn on her blog,


Continue Reading

What every mother should know, where to take the kids

Sophie, Amelia and Carolyn prepare to head out from the Cedar River Boathouse on Lake Washington. / CAROLYN OSSORIO
Sophie, Amelia and Carolyn prepare to head out from the Cedar River Boathouse on Lake Washington. / CAROLYN OSSORIO


“HOOT! HOOT!” My fingers round into a megaphone. I commence a series of sharp owl cries — a  means of communication the kids and I developed for when we’re exploring.

I hear giggling and fast-moving bodies zigzagging through the trees like the Lost Boys. Technically, the Kubota Gardens is just outside the Renton border and if you want to split hairs, it’s not really Never, Never Land.

But Kubota Gardens sure feels like a magical place strolling through the abundant bamboo, yew, birch and other flowering trees and mature shrubs.

An unbelievable feast for the hungry eye . . . desperate for summer fun in Renton that’s affordable, kid-friendly and not the same-old, same-old. I reminded myself to thank my friend Dina Davis for turning me on to this little gem.

Continue Reading

‘Get that rooster off my crippled chicken right now!’

Three-year-old Patrick has become somewhat of the chief chicken wrangler at the Ossorio spread in east Renton.— Image Credit: Carolyn Ossorio
Three-year-old Patrick has become somewhat of the chief chicken wrangler at the Ossorio spread in east Renton.— Image Credit: Carolyn Ossorio


“You’ve definitely got a rooster . . . he came over and tried to get on my crippled chicken,” My neighbor informed me.

I was wide-eyed and speechless leaning up against the chain link fence that runs the length of our yards.

Adhered against our joint fences were two very different interpretations of urban chicken coops and their respective runs.

Recently, I read on the Internet that the domesticated fowl can fill a spiritual hole in an increasingly technology-focused society. In other words chickens have become chic.

Back in March, for the price of a video game, we loaded the minivan with four adopted fuzzy chicks, feed, a heat lamp, bulb, a water feeder and a feed box from Keppler’s Feed Store in Renton. Having no experience in raising chickens.

I had high hopes of raising hens as a fun activity with fresh, free-range eggs as a fringe benefit.

And yet four months later, here I stood, defensive, feeling like I was talking about my adopted errant teenage son run wild in the neighborhood.

Continue Reading