I am a chopper of wood and carrier of water, a keeper of bees, digger of soil, and washer of dishes, but when people ask me "what do you do" I usually satisfy them with "I'm in information technology." If they really want to know, I'll tell them about the decade as a wilderness guide. Some jobs are vocations, some are avocations, but that one was an evocation. I also wrangle pixels and try to herd them into representations of coherent thoughts, which is a provocation. :-)
The decorations and the memories have been carefully wrapped and put away. The pants are just a bit tighter than they were two weeks ago. Elves did not magically finish the winter chores we set aside for the holidays, and there is still wood to be chopped and water to be carried. As a contrarian, … More The Pendulum Clutch
There’s a particular kind of disappointment in watching a once‑reliable machine die in an undignified collapse of cascading destruction brought on by the failure of a single, fragile part. The irony is sharp when it happens at the peak of our season of conspicuous consumption. My old washing machine didn’t fail on Christmas Day because … More When “Good Enough” Isn’t Good Enough
The years go by too quickly, driven by the ways we dissect time. I believe we might live longer, if not better, by counting moons instead of days. I like my age better divided by seasons instead of seconds, measured instead in the lifespans of loyal dogs and good horses, and the occasional cat. I … More Light For The Longest Nights
I called my brother the other day while he and his wife were sharing a morning cup. The weather outside was frigid, but they were basking in the warm embrace of home and companionship, quietly chatting about this and that. A slice of toast, a comfortable chair, and nothing demanding they get up and get … More The Little Things
The tapping begins just after daybreak and continues intermittently until dusk. It is the sound of Splash, the flat-headed cardinal, attacking his reflection in the window. Splash descends from a long line of head-bangers, though I suspect there is no survival value for male cardinals who dull their beaks against glass. His great-grandfather was the … More Reflections Of The Enemy
Last week I ripped up the stairs to our deck. They were built in 2019 with “premium” pressure-treated pine, coated with stain and maintained on a sunny south-facing wall. They looked fine on the surface, but inside they were black with rot, spongy, the grain splitting like cheap veneer. The deck was built in 1987 … More Men of Oak, Men of Particle Board
Last week, we wrote “A Shadow on the Badge,” remembering some of the misfortunes afflicting the Towns County Sheriff’s Office over the past half-century; misfortunes that seem disproportionate to the small size of our community. A few folks—among the unfortunate number who inform their opinions by reading headlines—thought the article was unsupportive of law enforcement. … More A Shadow Is Not A Stain
Towns County captures the essence of rural America in the quiet allure of our rolling hills and inspiring mountain views. With a small population of just 13,000, it’s a close-knit community with a shared history of resilience connecting neighbors who truly know each other’s stories. Yet, beneath this peaceful exterior, a troubling history emerges. It … More A Shadow Over The Badge
“Man is the only animal that blushes, or needs to.” —Mark Twain Did you ever find yourself on a familiar stretch of road repeating a conversation you had the last time you were there? That happens to Tracey and me frequently enough that if the subject of the revived conversation was unpleasant, we have a … More In Our Wake
It’s chilly this morning, but there is a sunny spot in the backyard where the makings of this year’s last tomato sandwich cling bravely to the vine in defiance of the changing seasons and the cold air that flows down from the mountain now, turning sourwoods crimson. The tomatoes were exceptionally good this year, and … More Tomatoes on the Vine
Outside The Box 