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Memories from the Class of 1977
I always loved talking to Harry Whittaker. He made you feel better than you had the right to feel about yourself. We played the same position on the football team, wide receiver and cornerback, and during scrimmages, we blocked and… Continue reading
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The Unfolding Highway…part 2
They don’t make cars like they used to. Once we broke down in the Texas panhandle and instead of getting out of the vehicle, our family road the lift pole all the way up to the ceiling while the mechanic… Continue reading
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The Unfolding Highway…part 1
I remember watching my Dad fold a road map on vacation while driving the highway. It is a lost art and the original texting while driving. Those maps had memory, and if you ignored the memory creases, there could be… Continue reading
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The Bones of 12 Acres
Before we built our home in 2005, the 12 acre site was grass and trees and water along with the bleached skeletons of cattle piled in a place our kids called the boneyard. I have lived in 22 homes, if… Continue reading
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Father of the Bride
It’s 5:20 a.m. and the house is quiet. Jenna is getting married June 24th. The young adults bunking here for the wedding, are fast asleep. I have a faint recollection of sleeping until noon, but it is a distant memory.… Continue reading
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Country Driving
My mom, Charlotte Taylor, recently attended a York University retreat and was challenged to write and she did, writing a story called, Country Driving. Mom instilled in her children a love of story. She read to us, her captive but… Continue reading
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Judgement and Grace in a Rubber Stamp
It’s difficult to comprehend all the political jousting about immigration policy. And even something as simple as people yearning to breathe free seems to be smothered in sound and fury. Sometimes it helps to hear a story from someone you… Continue reading
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Sunset Beach
I’ve always had an aversion to my own birthday parties accompanied by the candles, singing, presents, and celebration. I would rather sit in a quiet corner and engage in singular conversation with someone or perhaps read a book by myself. To borrow… Continue reading
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Malibu
Malibu is beautiful. The people are beautiful also. 60 is the new 40 here and everyone looks much too healthy, glowing like they might be famous or perhaps they are names on a rolling movie credit…anonymous yet vital. And Malibuans… Continue reading
Bespoke 