HWA
Here’s what the HWA (Hemlock Wooly Adelgid) is doing to our forest. Have you noticed?
Back to the Future
I woke up in a panic: Oh my gosh, another deadline looming for the newspaper column, and I hadn’t a clue what I would write. And so this morning’s blogging time on the first “free” morning at home in a…
Fruit-Flasher
“It’s rumored that in the early ’90’s, civic authorities ordered the Peachoid water tower repainted so it would look less like a big butt — reducing rubbernecking fatalities on nearby I-85. It may be safer today, but from the right…
Old Times There…
…are not forgotten. Back in Dixieland. It has its charms and its memories. Spanish moss and mistletoe overhead; fireants and armadillo scratchings in the sandy soil; the smell of salt spray and marsh mud in Mobile. Today we leave from…
Elder Mobile-ity
Just a quick howjadoo from Mobile. Spanish moss, mistletoe overhead; fireants and armadillo sign underfoot; the smell of salt spray, the faint aroma of papermill and wet marsh mud. Traffic of I-65 just outside our dirty fourth floor window that…
Counting My Blessings
November 2001. Our only grandchild, Abby, was less than a year old, barely enough hair to tie a ribbon around , fat-cheeked, speechless. My how she’s grown into a bright, stuck-on-go little gal, just like her momma. We see her…
Committee-Comatose
This morning’s blogging focus has been pre-empted by a brainsucking, late-night committee meeting. The blogger slept in and woke up behinder than usual. With regrets, we inform you that there will be no blog post this morning. Except for… *…
Mixed Nuts
NOAA Wx Radio’s Greatest Hits We call him Jose because he seems to have a south-of-the-border ESL quality to his robot speech as he reads the weather synopsis, forecast or current readings of conditions around the area. He came out…
Lost in Let’s Remember
We’re very different, Ann and I, in the source from which we take our bearings. Hers are from the demands and obligations of the moment. Each day is the first day of the rest of her life. Mine come from…
To Nap, Perchance to Dream
Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave of care, The death of each day’slife, sore labour’s bath, Balm of hurt minds, great Nature’s secondcourse, Chief nourisher in life’s feast. — Shakespeare, Macbeth “Thomas Edison, Napoleon Bonaparte, Salvador Dali, Winston Churchill,…
Perchance to Dream
I dream of color, of images in words and light together on the page. In Fragments has been realized a hope that goes way back. In an old journal, the only journal I ever kept during the early 70s, I…
November Woods
I recently read a short “review” of the book (a couple of sentences) that described the book as “breathy, ethereal, out of the body prose”. I don’t think this was a compliment. But I never expected to please everybody. Just…