Carnage
It rained a lot these past couple weeks, and I mean a lot. It rained every day. It rained so much that my dog was constipated. It...
Sole Purpose
In my gym newsletter last month I read, “Change your shoes every six months.” Really? Six months? Sure I use them almost every day,...
Berries on the Fence Line
My dad thumped into the kitchen. Dry dishes clattered against their uneven piles as he emptied the dry bin. I continued watching the...
Gone Fishin' Part Two: Fishing Line
I stunk, but I wasn't that tired. I lamented the sports bra only a year old that I should probably burn. My shoulders were one round...
Gone Fishin'
I'm sad. I'm sad that my favorite trainer is leaving, the one that pushes me to both remember and find what my body and mind can do. ...
March is Spring in Wisconsin. . . And other assumptions
My withering jacket used to be part of my professional adult persona that functioned on too many assumptions to name. The corduroy...
The Feather
It was my birthday, but that wasn’t why I was at dinner in the swanky Portland restaurant that August evening. Actually I felt out of...
I'm Not a "Sucker": A life pruned
The weather was unseasonably warm a couple of weekends ago so my dad left one tree for me to prune. I’m not sure why he did. I think...
A Professional Dating History
Rene and I sat astride picnic tables in the park pavilion. The city of parks description could easily be seen from where we were and the...
