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
Tracey and I treat ourselves to some really fine hot chocolate this time of year. It’s the good stuff, not the hydrogenated high fructose off-the-shelf alkali powder. We melt and stir and wait, and simply ignore the list of ingredients on the package of marshmallows. Christmas is a bit like dark chocolate. The fellowship and … More Like Dark Chocolate
A few short years ago, when relentless time was beginning to overtake my parents, and the empty chairs around our Thanksgiving table were already noticeable, there came the very last family gathering when all my mother’s children sat down for a meal together under her roof. We didn’t know it was the last. One rarely … More The Cranberry Salad
Every year about this time, leaves gather and get relocated; then they regroup and conspire to come back with others, only to be relocated again. The roofs of our house and barn are inspected and repaired as needed. Garden hoses are coiled and stored away. Tomato plants are pulled up and replaced by broccoli, lettuce, … More It’s About Time
This week we pause to consider the passing of a man I did not know. We never actually met, except to exchange a wave in passing. Neighbors are few and far between in our valley and most of us have a nodding acquaintance even if we rarely speak. I do not know the family, or … More A Tender Place For A Gentle Soul
I am my father’s son. This is not to say that I do not cherish the many gifts and influences of my mother, but boys who are blessed to have a father in the home, one willing and able to provide the mentoring they desperately need, are bound to inherit some of his attributes and … More My Father’s Son
Ah, the memories that are summoned this time of year as we unpack the Christmas decorations, the Menorah or the Mishumaa Saba candles. Here is that very odd-looking decoration I made in the fourth grade that my mother kept all those years. It’s always good for a laugh, and sometimes a tear or two. Look … More Unpacking Memories
Outside The Box 