It is Tuesday. Driving in this morning, on a two-lane stretch of road, I got stuck behind the Dr. Pumper Septic Tank Surgeon Truck (this is a real thing, yes), going painstakingly slow, with its tank, disturbingly, shaped, and colored an awful lot like an actual Dr. Pepper can. But the can did not leak, …
It is Monday, and I am taking a vacation day today, to play in the dirt in my yard, planting and such. To also play with my dogs, who will not take well to me playing outside by myself. And to drink coffee on my porch, once the afternoon rain settles in. Happy. <Post likes …
It is Friday, and I am married. To be a little more specific: Seven years ago on this day I surprised a delightful, beautiful, funny, tiny, mighty and obviously very gullible woman in a church in Grand Cayman with a proposal, a ring and a dapper island priest with a killer accent who was in …
This near-daily business of accentuating, let’s say, the positive, started thusly, on Facebook. 04/23/14 Monday and Wednesday go walking into a bar; as per usual, Monday is in everybody’s business in no time, annoying the hell out of everyone there, while Wednesday is a lot more laid-back, getting even more so the longer he’s around. Both days …
It is Thursday, and packs of wild dogs are not roaming the streets of my neighborhood this morning, inciting terror and mayhem. On reflection, there were no such packs of dangerous curs yesterday either, nor the day before that, nor even the one one more before. I am recognizing a very positive pattern here. <Post …
Very rough draft of first few short sections of what I hope will end up being a finished new short story in the coming months. The Bucket Brigade Sunset, Key West, FloridaI figured it was about as good as anything to start with. I live outside Ft. Myers, the north side. Just across the river, where …
You are visited, often, in those final twitching moments of the day, by the inklings of an idea plainly woven through with gold. Streaked at times, even, with the diaphanous brilliance of beatific wings illumined in the streaming bright of heaven’s heady spotlight. Abloom, now and again, maybe, with the trumpeted bunched sunburst of daffodils …
SO IT’S LIKE this: Preparing to turn my stalwart four-paws companion of 12 years, my cat, Bug, my pal, the biggest fan of my singing, my eyeball, into a furry glow lamp to fry part of his bedeviling thyroid gland is frying every one of my own nerves as well. I joke like I think …
Lifted from the middle of a thing that’s mostly just beginning and end, and that will, at this latening hour, likely never be enough in-between to either stand on its own, or fall such that its ultimate unannounced demise is ever noticed. So the text to follow just sits here, bluntly excised, and unexplained, in …
I am not a believer in ghosts. Not. Just not. And this has created some unexpected problems for me, since my life is haunted pretty much up one side and right down the other. I should explain that the phantoms that plague me are most often entirely my own, holdovers of myself from different flashpoints, …