FOUNDATIONS
We got to poking around (again) around the edges of this semi-permanent feature down the valley and around the bend from the house. We were told by an long-time resident of Goose Creek that this was once a tobacco barn;…
We got to poking around (again) around the edges of this semi-permanent feature down the valley and around the bend from the house. We were told by an long-time resident of Goose Creek that this was once a tobacco barn;…
Once upon a time, there was a strange farmer of Erehwon. He gathered his curiosities, his precious things–momentary objects that held his attention and delight–and hoped others might wander down his lonesome road and share his fascination with the ordinary.…
This was the first Story Challenge I put up on my high school’s 50th reunion page. It got no love. So I put it up here–again–for a few blog passersby. Turns out I had told this tale on the blog…
“The Herdmans were absolutely the worst kids in the history of the world. They lied and stole and smoked cigars and used the Lord’s name in vain. They hit little kids and cussed their teachers and set fire to Fred…
I’m not sure the world is a better place for having shared these moss-covered and faded reflections, but there you go. You’re done. No more. Until the next wave of remembery. Seventh Grade: Ms Griffith -Â Â Â My memory is that…
This was perhaps my most traumatic year of grade school. And my mother corrects me: the Scent of Death was Tabu. On the plus side, it would be the beginning of the decade of coming of age music. But that…
This would have been 1958-9. Other installments in the series (hang with me, we’re more than half way now) are linked at the end of this chapter. [su_divider top=”no”] Four Grade: Ms Long -Â Â Â I have copious memories of Ms.…
Second Grade: Ms Barnes 1955-6 -   The first thing I always remember about Ms Barnes was that she came to my house, and I was not in trouble. It was my seventh birthday party. You don’t forget stuff like that.…
I would never have spent my morning pages last week doing this had not I been prompted by a classmate who was penning some memories of those times for his grand children. We both attended Minnie Holman Elementary in Woodlawn…
I only have a few minutes of peace and reflection at the computer-with-coffee this morning. The reason is dental. A gold crown came off while water-picking. As seems to be typical of dental emergencies, the timing was not convenient–on the…
This week we’ve been excavating the Very Back Room. It is the kind of task that has a beginning, but once breached, it gushes decisions and piles and pools of anguish of seemingly endless volume. I wrote some thoughts about…
Sometimes, not going with the flow has its advantages. Having a handicapped traveler along for the trip to Missouri was an impediment for those able to walk normal distances and speeds along the U MO campus trail. But my (temporary?)…
Because it features Skeeters (“a Million dogs sold”) in our former home town of Wytheville, a friend sent along this video below about the “red hotdog corridor” that cuts a swath through southwest Virginia, across the decades, and well into…
I stopped by for a while yesterday afternoon for a picnic north of town, and kept returning my gaze to the lines of a gracefully dilapidated barn on the crest of hill above us. Finally, I could stand it no…