So if you beat a Monday hard enough for long enough, it’ll finally begrudgingly give up and go away, dragging most of your joy right along with it. But then Tuesday. Oh, Tuesday. Tuesday is that dreaded family member who shows up late at a holiday dinner, his bags packed in the car and his wheezing …
There’s just something about a bunny, apparently. As so many times before, as this morning, as I’m trying, vainly, to meditate, with enough focus issues without this to contend with, too: Our goofus half-hound Maggie goes absolutely batshit crazy over the sight of any of the little furry hoppers that call our part of the …
Few things are as heartbreaking to me as seeing someone at the veterinarian’s office with a much-loved animal for the very last time, with that shattering person struggling to hold it together, and the pet, through all its final suffering, still attentive to its adoring human. That kind of helpless grief and abiding devotion, that throbbing human …
We have one of those flimsy kitty water fountains with an amazingly tough little motor in it and a big reservoir of waiting water — at least when recently filled, as ours had been only last night. The water dispenses on its own through some combination of gravity and other science-y concepts that make my head hurt. …
Jersey always left the side door open so I just walked on in. He was there on the couch, slumped back and ugly as he was every time you saw him, just butt ugly, with a long face full of bad teeth and hair that sprouted everywhere from him, like bristly weeds. He smelled like …
On the seventh day, God did, as is so often said, rest. But not without a little help. The Lord, dragging a bit from the drudgery of inflating all of eternity, stepped on a bunch of ripening grapes, and the godly fungus of ethereal toes did yield the yeast of ages. And there, suddenly, was …
Never risk listening to those aching songs you love on nights when you’re too tired to breathe without hearing your own breath admitting how little breath you have left ahead of you compared to how much exhaling has already come and gone. Nostalgia, yes. To wit: “How many a year has passed and gone / …
<Thanks, Joe, for the post title.> Late yesterday afternoon, I hoofed it the couple of miles through our eastern North Carolina version of bitter cold, gloved hands and big coat, double socks and damn me for failing to wear a hat, to the local post office, a pre-stamped packet in hand. In my back pocket, a …
False starts. Water under life’s bridge. So then, a little more dipping into my personal archaeology. My very soggy personal archaeology. I do dig the bit about the old guy and the wandering eye and the pine cones, though. Circa 2004, maybe. Medlum Come Home The faded red Pinto sputtered to a halt in the dry worn tracks …
Trending shopworn rumors of declineall that thrives within this tetheringgray, seeding serpentine vines of invasivedecay, threaded through veins ofa retiring mind, curlingoutward from glassed eyes embracinglyblind. I have begged youagain, once more and againtell me where we are, friend in this slagheap of men that suck this hardhusk of Earth, like it still has its milk, likewe might yet arise, …