I stepped outside, bare feet and bathrobe to retrieve the newspaper from the driveway this morning as I do most every day. The first spears of...
This month will probably be forever remembered by me as the Summer of the Winter of 2016. To think that a year ago I was surrounded...
The dining room table. It’s where I left off in our story and, somewhat fittingly, where this last chapter begins and ends. As a writer of...
Home. I struck out in search of my true home when I was barely 18 and until I was 32, I had called a great many...
Things seemed almost stabile. Like a storm that blows, bullies, and blusters, then suddenly subsides, I was cautiously hopeful. Before the band (22 Kings) showed up...
Words are powerful things. I sometimes believe them to be the most traitorous of conspirators. Take last issue, for instance, wherein I wrote the following with...
As outlined last month, my expedition through the moon-like topography of Utah was coming to a close but, like Apollo 13, there was a problem with...
“This is a very serious fall.” I could hear those words ringing like the alarms from China Syndrome inside my head at full volume, as the...
The tools of an artisan are at their best, an extension of his or her very hands. They assist in bringing forth inspirations from the realm...
