Popular Posts
-
Dear Dad, Remember in Eugene when you’d get those rare days in spring where, after dreary skies and an eternity of rain, the sun came blaz... -
--> We call it “throwing a wrench in” around here. It doesn’t happen often, although often enough that we have a dedicated express... -
Dear Gillian, Spring is just starting to peep out here in the Heartland. The trees are budding and the bulbs are blooming. In a week or tw... -
When you hit about 60, you get a free pass to be annoying. Annoying kids are just pests, but annoying old men are just, well, old men. By n... -
By now, I should be used to the first day of school. I have, after all, had 60 of them. There are few events in life that so mix anticipati... -
On Friday night I sat in a darkened high school auditorium and watched my girl dance under the bright stage lights. I have seen this particu... -
--> The language of love is a funny thing. It starts out, often enough, all sonnets and poetry, or at least sweet, wooing words. I...
-
It’s raining buckets here in Portland. We lucked out with several unseasonably warm and dry weeks in January and now, as the weather gods ar...
-
Dear Gillian, I feel both old and young today. Very tired but very invigorated. It’s one of those days when nothing seems as it appears. ... -
I’m a congenital writer. Some people write because their third-grade teacher threatened to send them back to kindergarten if they didn’t fin...
© 2013 D&G Test site is designed by Templateify
0 comments