A while back; several times actually; I told Denise that I wanted a reclining chair in the Mission or Craftsman style, something with nice flat wooden arm rests, leather cushioning, and classic Mission styling that I could relax in after a day of the hard work of being retired. And ( more… )
Last weekend I attended my 50th high school reunion at Ozark Academy in rural Northwest Arkansas. About eighty percent of our class returned to the school and it was a wonderful event. Most of these people I had not seen for fifty years, and most of them I will never see ( more… )
In the spring of my freshman year at Ozark Academy the school held its annual school picnic not at a park or a lake or someplace new to us but on campus. I decided to use that day to do something I’d never done before: see how far I could ( more… )
A decade has past since I last saw Mike Tuller. Until yesterday March 6 when I met him for lunch at Hayden’s Grill in Tualatin. We had a great visit and did a lot of catching up. Not only is Mike a true American character in the finest sense of ( more… )
“Most of the major ills of the world have been caused by well-meaning people who ignored the principle of individual freedom, except as applied to themselves, and who were obsessed with fanatical zeal to improve the lot of mankind-in-the-mass through some pet formula of their own. The harm done by ( more… )
Out of Gas If I am wandering, Deambulando As the Spaniards say, Then I must lock the door Take my key And walk. But if I have A destination Then I am content. I can hold the gas cap In my hand And wait.
The Scale of Importance The late afternoon with its lowered sun and breeze that barely moved the resting energetic leaves. The sailing students in class on the river, all in identical boats with mainsail and jib and learning to set them just so to move upwind, and the breeze just warm enough ( more… )
My dad was born in a house near Annie Battle Lake in what is now Glendalough State Park in Ottertail County, Minnesota, on February 17, 1919. The circumstances of my dad’s upbringing required him to learn thriftiness and self-reliance and he learned a great deal. What I remember is his ( more… )
That bird lying stiff and still Among the brown leaves And cobwebs in a corner Of my little patio of concrete And exposed aggregate Has yellow feathers and has Been there for a month. One day I’ll be dead And someone will find me Among the leaves and wonder ( more… )
She held her closed hand in front of her. “I found it in the garden.” Her smile from this morning was gone. She opened her hand. The thing was smaller than I remembered. She had cleaned it, but it wasn’t shiny. My lungs were empty of air. “How did you know where to dig?” “No ( more… )