Rain drips from the eaves of our cabin porch near Westcliffe, Colorado, as Led Zeppelin’s The Rain Song plays in my ear pods. It’s 60 degrees and…… Read more “The Naked Eye”
Dad always had a travelin’ jones. He loved maps, highways, vacations, travel. It was an itch that could only be scratched with a road trip. As Dad…… Read more “On the Road Again”
2020 April 5 I left for college my freshman year driving a Pontiac crammed with Advent stereo speakers and a Yamaha receiver. I was wearing…… Read more “April 11, 2020”
March 28 Questions of priority and sanity are framed in stark relief by cataclysm. For instance, “Why is it easier to buy marijuana than a good book…… Read more “April 4, 2020”
These are strange days. The earth doesn’t seem to be spinning as fast, yet the moon rises and we rest awaiting another day and the wonder of…… Read more “Strange Days”
Karen and I just got back from Edmond where we won a medal in mixed doubles. Karen thinks we should get money rather than medals. I remind…… Read more “Why Do I Play Pickleball?”
We decided to get away this past weekend, so we visited our friends, Rick and Belinda, in Fayetteville. We watched the fleeting colors of autumn scatter underfoot…… Read more “What I’ve learned eating pie”
Charlotte Taylor was born June 24, 1935 in the panhandle of Oklahoma. Do the math if you want…Happy Birthday Mom!
We pulled our car into the driveway, narrowly missing a huge sycamore tree while striking the curb with the front wheel, and I told Karen that one…… Read more “Kathryn & the Sycamore”
…children believe their parents to be fools when they are of “a certain age” and then they pass through vintage moment(s), return to us, and want to hang out, ask for advice, laugh at our jokes (or at least not roll their eyes quite as dramatically)…and yet they are still our children, only smarter than us, better looking, and somehow poised and eloquent and we think it strangely odd?