The sun already set, not below the horizon, but behind the cauliflower clouds, a halo hanging just above the earth. Orange-brown light bled through the thin spots like an iodine stain and rimmed the crest with a subtle ember glow. The entrance to my trail shrouded by the gloom. I was late, too late. Helping … Continue reading Twilight
Parenting
Water Bottle
“It doesn’t matter what object you pick. You just have to tell a story.” Eli was freaking out. His first homework assignment of the year: write a personal essay. My thought: “Finally, an assignment I can help with.” When my kids get stuck on their math homework, they’re on their own. Eli’s seventh grade curriculum … Continue reading Water Bottle
The Fireworks Edition
Independence Day in America. We blow shit up. Ask any American about our Fourth of July traditions, and they’ll tell you ‘fireworks.’ Or maybe ‘beer and fireworks.’ It’s all very patriotic. Especially the beer, assuming that it’s American beer. I haven’t learned yet if Trump is applying tariffs to foreign beer, but American beer is … Continue reading The Fireworks Edition
Emerging insect-borne infectious diseases.
King Ben's Grandma tagged me to participate in 3.2.1. Quote Me. I swore I would never participate in one of these blog games again, but now look: I'm all in. So here are the rules: Thank the selector (Thanks Grandma) Post 2 quotes for the dedicated Topic of the Day Select 3 bloggers to take part … Continue reading Emerging insect-borne infectious diseases.
Transforming Mom
Mothers’ Day: a topic deserving some real estate on my blog, thoughts about mom. But not my mom, Decades ago, she got sick, and then she got sicker. She’s been dead for thirty-three years. I’ve already written about her, twice. Pornography About Death Today, I’m writing about Tristan’s mom, I’m writing about Elyse. Elyse isn’t … Continue reading Transforming Mom
Kids’ Day
“Why do you want that picture so badly?” This is Jess, I work with her. I’ve lined up this shot at least seven times. It’s of the vendor-booth across from ours. Every time I’m ready to snap the picture, the wind blows and flips one or both of the signs sideways. I put down my … Continue reading Kids’ Day
Violence
It’s the same fight every time. Once, twice per year, depending on how frequently we get together. Thanksgiving and/or Christmas. Fight is too strong a word. Argument; disagreement; squabble—one of those might be a better fit. These are the holidays that bring Susan’s family together. Her sister lives in Maine, her brother in Massachusetts. Susan’s … Continue reading Violence
My Turn
We’ve dodged a bullet, hundreds of times. My kids are teenagers. Well one of them is; the other one is twelve. So not a teen, but almost. And for all these years, they’ve been the least scheduled kids I know—they’re not committed every afternoon and evening. Not on team sports. Not in church youth groups. … Continue reading My Turn
Etymology, Idioms & Blogs
Hit the ground running… have I done this? Not really. Consider this idiom: A parachuting reference? Jumping off a train? Out of a car? I googled the etymology and found “It may come from troops dropped into a combat zone, from stowaways.” Ignoring the weird punctuation, I tried to find out what a ‘stowaway’ is. … Continue reading Etymology, Idioms & Blogs
Like Watching Ice Melt
I'm not writing much these days. Over the past month I've been enrolled in thirteen hours per week of domestic violence advocacy training for work. On top of that, the Olympics are on. This is the one time every other year that our TV is turned on for any distracting length of time. Waiting for … Continue reading Like Watching Ice Melt
In My Day…
Hate to sound like an old dude… whatever, I am an old dude. Or I’m not a young dude. I’m old enough to get frustrated with “these kids today.” And I’m not actually talking about kids; I’m talking about adults. The ones who are younger than me. The ones who are starting to be in … Continue reading In My Day…
About Death
About Death Two scenarios; contradictory, and neither is true: Michael Weeks at forty-two years old: he spends his evenings in the company of his wife, his children and his dogs. He’s fulfilled by his career; his relationships are enduring; his hobbies, rewarding. He’s rarely sick. In total, he’s content. Or… Michael Weeks at forty-two: he’s … Continue reading About Death
Computer…
Caution… old dude writing. Reading this essay requires a basic knowledge of the TV show Star Trek. Star Trek is the first show I remember watching. I’m talking prime-time now, not shows in the time-slots dedicated to reruns. When I was a kid, you could watch cartoons on TV every morning except Sunday. And an … Continue reading Computer…
Audio Immaturity
I’m oldish. Fifty-five. The sorry side of middle-age. When I hold open the door for a stranger, he always says “Thank you, sir.” Grey hair, wrinkles, balding. Oldish. But I’m not actually old. Not yet. I’ve got years ahead of me. I’ve got kids living at home. I’m still trying to build a career. These … Continue reading Audio Immaturity
Killing time on New Year’s Eve
I am killing time by blogging, I'm not saying that it's time to kill. Sometimes what I write is crap. This time, I’m blaming Eli. If you don’t frequently read my blog, you won’t know that Eli is my son. He’s twelve. His favorite activities are computer use and destroying shit—usually by fire—but always under … Continue reading Killing time on New Year’s Eve
Be the Light
Squandered! A whole year. A great idea, but poor follow-through. Eleven months ago, I invented a religion. Or resurrected a religion. Modified a religion. Whatever. I plotted a way for my non-Christian family to participate in the holiday season. Solstice Plus Four. A plan to take the winter solstice back from the Christians. We made … Continue reading Be the Light
Going for a run
One o’clock in the afternoon. I’m heading home from the office. I’m working part time at a local company. It’s a great set-up for me. It’s right in my town, a mile from home, and the organization’s mission is right up my alley. It’s a domestic violence and sexual assault non-profit. We advocate against... we … Continue reading Going for a run
Whoppers
It’s important to me to be considered a “good” house. At the entrance to my neighborhood is a small seventies-era split-level home. It’s not well kept: over-grown bushes, peeling paint and an eroded set-back—that eight-foot parking strip between the street and the lawn in rural neighborhoods like mine. There are no curbs denoting the start of … Continue reading Whoppers
Field of Screams (flash non-fiction)
Tentatively, I push through the battered wooden door, past its scarred reddish hue, into the adjacent room. I need to crouch down to squeeze through the tiny doorway. The spring-loaded hinge offers enough resistance to make me question my plan to carry on, to follow this path. As I clear the door, the room beyond … Continue reading Field of Screams (flash non-fiction)
Grinding my Axe
I’m trying something new. I’ve got an axe to grind, and I’ve never before used my blog to grind an axe. But I’ve got a platform, a readership—and I’m pissed. This is my opportunity to sway opinion, to reach a hundred, maybe two hundred people, to build a groundswell… against Sears. Picking up in the … Continue reading Grinding my Axe
