As a wee bit of a person, I considered being old as something mysterious and beloved. My parents were helpful in ushering me into life like that; we …

Once I gave the eulogy for a man I barely knew. For many years I traded with him on the court house steps where he offered fresh eggs by dint …

We peer into a giant pot hole on the road. It is murky with layered colors of decaying nature and shreds of environmental shambles like tainted oil and concrete chunks. …

“What say?” I said. “A whistle pig,” said Dalton, “I believe that is what we have here.” Ah yes, the whistle pig, related to the bull mouse of yore. My …

For heaven’s sake, it’s those things a mother insists upon that can make a life. “I made shorts with an elastic waistband in a six weeks sewing class while in …

  A new but persistent pain in my hip woke me with a start. I believe the sensation to be rheumatiz a word we used as children when we ambled …

  If I was a character in a dystopian novel, I would pack my spade and run down Highway 7 to Leipers Creek Road. The protagonist lives there and she …

A good frolic, for me, usually involves surveillance of two or more things that on the first glance seem unrelated, but after woolgathering reveal a magnetic pull towards one another. …