The reward at the end of the eight hour drive is immediate. I pry myself out of the cramped car and stand up in the soft needles splayed across the dirt driveway, feel the breeze enfold my bare arms and listen to the sighing trees. No visual cues are needed. Based on these lesser senses…
Read MoreI first became besotted with mouth feel sitting to the right of my grandmother at Sunday lunches. The main course typically consisted of beef tenderloin cooked to a perfect dusty rose hue accompanied by roasted potatoes whose shiny and auburn surface gave way with a gentle crackle to the tender middle. But the star of…
Read MoreI know it’s going to be a tough night – guaranteed uncertainty, possible angst spiked with a jolt of humiliation. Nick tells me that I’ll know plenty of people at the cocktail party, but that’s not the point. The Myers-Briggs test is the point. I have taken it twice in different corporate environments – can’t…
Read MoreMy intent is to write about swearing, which is why my fingers are trembling above the keyboard. I know that at some point I will have to type those four letters, the word that I have such trouble saying even to myself. I’m sure that you know what I am referring to, but for now…
Read MoreThe First Quarter I remember my mother standing in the kitchen chatting on the yellow telephone with the long and twisting cord. She would twirl her short brown hair with her index finger as she chewed a piece of gum. She used her tongue to fold the gum in half, trapping a small air bubble,…
Read MoreHow odd that the image of Charlie Grinstead should come to mind in such perfect detail after a 40 year hiatus. I don’t think that I ever spoke a word to him during the two years our lives overlapped at college, and I haven’t kept up with any college friends, so there is no obvious…
Read MoreOne of the books on the reading list for my upcoming writer’s workshop is “The Art of the Personal Essay,” a 700+ page anthology of essays ranging from Seneca (AD3-65) to present day. I decided to pick my selection by riffling through the book and asking Nick to say stop. The first random essay was…
Read MoreWe received a very remarkable phone message the other day from the local library, informing us that a book that I had checked out had been returned by United Airlines. Apparently, I had left the book on the plane, and some kind souls at the airline had taken the following series of unlikely steps: 1)…
Read MoreHanging out, the fine art of doing nothing together. See companion Podcast on puttering (Pitter, Patter, Putter Perfect), the fine art of doing nothing on your own.
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