The shed door wouldn’t budge. Bruce pushed against it. I pushed against it with him. It stayed stuck. He’d gotten it open but we were expecting severe weather, the weather…
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What do you do if you hurt someone and you’re pressed nose to glass by your own pettiness, meanness, hypocrisy? Shame wells up like a bad smell. What if the…
Soon after Booker died, some puppy pictures caught my eye, so I asked the breeder if she had any adults. She did — a bitch who’d been returned. When I…
Stephen Pressfield, author of War of Art says, “Henry Fonda was still throwing up before each stage performance, even when he was 75. In other words, fear doesn’t go away. The…
A person can disagree with President Obama’s policies, or be afraid, or be troubled by our open borders, or question Sharia law, or think “maybe Trump.” These days a person…
During my early teenage years, my family became good friends with archeologist Paul Huey. He was a graduate student studying archeology at the University of Pennsylvania, who came to our area…
These days women are portrayed as heroes running through woods, flashing swords, guns or light sabers, showing men how to be accurate shots, how to be brave. These are flashy,…
When our dog died, it was guilt that sliced me open. If only I’d listened to my desire to skip the hair cut because it was too cold and…
It’s been a mild winter so far, but the first bitterness, with wind chills below zero, sapped my energy and patience. My feet burned. My hands burned. The wind was…
It’s been a week since Booker’s been gone. The community a person gathers on social media is more meaningful than the experts give you all credit for. That simple “I’m sorry” brings…