Susan and I like to grocery shop together. Is that weird? We sit in our family room, hot because our wall of windows faces south. Sun pours in at a steep angle, creating a swath of light, a two-foot-wide space heater where we don’t need one—not in August. Skylights let in three extra splashes of … Continue reading Date Night at the Grocery
Writing to Write
That time God spoke from the clouds. In many of the "Rules for Writing" lists on the web, know your audience is number one. I know my audience. I'm writing this for myself. ~ ~ ~ “Hey, where ya been?” That’s what you’re thinking right now, isn't it? At least in my mind you are. … Continue reading Writing to Write
A River Runs
They say a river runs through it. “Hrumph,” you say, “hardly a river, more like a wash. Sometimes it even runs dry.” We moved into the house at the end of March after a hefty renovation. Walls moved, hardwood laid, bookshelves built-in where a closet once stood. No, I didn’t do the work. My part … Continue reading A River Runs
Would You Like Number Twenty-Three?
Would you like number twenty-three?Leave your yens on the counter, please. --Lyric from Hong Kong Garden, Song by Siouxsie and the Banshees Never mind that the plural of yen is yen. Never mind that yen is the currency of Japan, not China (or Hong Kong for that matter). Never mind that Hong Kong Garden is … Continue reading Would You Like Number Twenty-Three?
Dog Days
I’m not the one who should be writing about weather. Daily, I read about unprecedented heat in Arizona and millennial flooding in Vermont. Let the Arizona and Vermont bloggers write the weather posts, I thought. It’s pleasant in Gettysburg—high eighties, low nineties. Yes, that’s a little hot, but it’s July, it’s supposed to be hot. … Continue reading Dog Days
Van Winkle’s Fate
Hudson’s crew played bowls in the dell. Friend, they were wasted. They pounded their keg, ale after ale, a spent barrel slept in a ditch next to the live one. Somehow Van Winkle was there too. He lay passed out cold under an elm with daisies strewn about his head and body haphazardly like they … Continue reading Van Winkle’s Fate
Mall Life
Go ahead, search the tag #vanlife. Think Gabby Petito, or any one of thousands of men and women, young to old, touring the parks, seeing the sights, living in their van. Think bloggers, YouTubers and Instagramers telling their story, influencing wishful thinkers and wannabes, selling a nomadic lifestyle and maybe a t-shirt. Think of me … Continue reading Mall Life
Sugar
After our first two months of dating, Susan and I drove to Erie to meet her family. Her brother was home from college for winter break, and her sister came in for the weekend. The drive was rough. Susan and I spent three and a half hours creeping out of Washington DC in a heavy … Continue reading Sugar
Alone in a Crowd
I encountered someone with Tourette Syndrome last week—I think. Their tics, facial twitches, were subtle. I stared too long and probably got caught. Still unsure, I stared some more. Once I decided I had it right, I wanted to walk over and say “Hey, me too! Tell me your story.” Susan said “Don’t, it’s none … Continue reading Alone in a Crowd
Numb
A forty-year memory is a dicey thing. You remember the stories you’ve told yourself rather than the actual events. Things get embellished, things get blocked depending on your needs. In my case, I think, blocked. I've banished memories, painful and embarrassing. Alcohol adds an extra curtain, a sheer one, not quite opaque. Another layer to … Continue reading Numb
Now what?
WordPress modified their reader again. And like always, they did it without explanation. Now a little graph with numbers appears opposite the likes and comments when I browse the blogs I follow. I can’t figure out what it means. I tried to Google it. No scrap that, I tried to Bing it. I’ve stopped using … Continue reading Now what?
The Lunatic is on the Grass*
Oh, pretty boy, can’t you show me nothing but surrender? Why am I starting a story about Pink Floyd with a Patti Smith quote? Funny thing about this quote: from the first time I heard the Patti Smith song Land, probably around forty years ago, I thought she said, “Oh pity, boy, can’t you show … Continue reading The Lunatic is on the Grass*
Daydream
The helicopter blades build speed. The gaping side door, slid open like a minivan's, offers a glimpse of the working space inside. When Eli finishes his EMT training, he could join an air ambulance crew. The paramedics load gear, or possibly a cooler chilling a liver for transplant in York. Transplants don’t happen here. We’re … Continue reading Daydream
The Inevitable
The chipmunk that lived in the downspout behind my back porch died today. Tommy murdered it. Does that sound hyperbolic? Do cats commit murder? If he had any intention of eating it, I would say he killed it, but eating wasn’t part of the plan. He offed it for sport. He dropped it on my … Continue reading The Inevitable
Wavers and A**holes (my rules for running and life in general)
In this great wide world, there are two types of people: wavers and assholes. By the great wide world, I mean the national park where I run, the Gettysburg National Military Park (aka the Gettysburg battlefield). By wavers, I mean runners who wave or nod to other runners as they approach. And the assholes? I’m … Continue reading Wavers and A**holes (my rules for running and life in general)
Chad
My apologies to anyone named Chad. I don't write much about my relationships prior to meeting Susan. Possibly I subconsciously think these stories aren't interesting, but more likely it's a defense mechanism. If I don't write about past girlfriends, they won't write about me. Although Stacey, who I dated unseriously for only eight months, has … Continue reading Chad
Vomit Draft
I started writing about the weather. Really just the temperature. I thought I could craft a whole essay on what temperature is considered most perfect. The one Goldilocks would love. Seventy degrees, not too hot, not too cold. But then I started thinking about how Americans are just about the only people who use the … Continue reading Vomit Draft
The Meaning of a Shriek
Our house was seventies suburban, solid hardwood floors but with drywall so thin I once punched a dent in it during an uninspired attempt to show my dad a bit of emotion. Each morning my father awoke early for work. He started every day with a shower. Everyone else had an extra hour to sleep, … Continue reading The Meaning of a Shriek
Ask Amy
Do you read advice columns? I do every day. The Washington Post runs a daily column by Carolyn Hax that I read while eating breakfast. As I crunch away on my Special K Chocolaty Delight cereal, the game I play is to compare my off-the-cuff response with Carolyn’s. Mine: a knee-jerk reaction to a seemingly … Continue reading Ask Amy
I don’t love yoga
I love to run. My feet gently tread the roadway or the trail. My relaxed gait allows me to absorb the scenery, focus on breath, and wander my brain. Running, every time, instills a sense of peace. I love to ride my mountain bike, primarily on the road, too many crashes in the woods last … Continue reading I don’t love yoga
The Other Stuff 