Fiasco. Every year Bruce mutters fiasco. “But it works out,” I say. I remember the time a storm sped down from Minnesota soaking raked rows of hay—500 bales worth. But…
Read More
I walk out the week after Little Dog died and saw another rainbow, so faint it looked like a ghost. It was a rare rainbow off to the west with…
Kathy Bates as Matlock speaks a truth we know well as elderly women. “Well, you see, there’s this funny thing that happens when women age. We become damn near invisible,”…
“Nuclear showdown proves Trump’s incompetence. Or, as Walter Kirn put it, ending the world to own Trump,” says Matt Taibbi in his essay, Ending the World to Own Trump on…
Sometime Around March 18,2025 Two red wing blackbirds settled on twigs as I walked back towards the turn towards home. It’s good to see them again, to see them eyeing…
With the warnings about not rebelling like the children of Isreal at Meribah and Massah repeating in the Daily Office, I was caught by the following, words that caught me…
Monday, March 3, 2025 I stop at the neighbors’ mailbox. It marks a half mile where I turn to walk home. I’m not greedy about making more steps than a…
Notes from the Bitter Week I walk the dogs out into cold so frigid my face burns. My fingers burn if I didn’t curl them around to the handwarmers in…
I look to The Tree, an oak, multiple times a day. She draws my eyes to herself when I walk out to do chores or circle the dogs behind the…
When I turn back to walk towards home, I walk past our neighbor’s neat white house and red barns. A breeze combs through yard pines. The small cattle pen behind…