A number of years ago a woman named Martha, who went to school with me at Nairobi International School (NIS) when we were both in ninth grade, contacted as many of us as she could and compelled us to get together again. The invitation was too good to turn down:
“Until I met you, I would have been unable to name the transformation that was taking place. Today, at my late age, I name it -- the fusion of love.” -- John Berger, And Our Faces, My Heart, Brief as Photos bejeweled mantecaditos There is a new recipe. Peace, Milton
for fireflies, while we sit in the dark after another evening of almosts has fallen all around us, all around us for a walk, since the storm that was almost a hurricane has done little more than threaten to bring rain, to bring rain to write a poem, you said
I had thirty minutes to kill so I wandered through the mystery novels and how to books until I found myself among the remainders books on their last legs making one final appeal to be something other than compost words someone meant once upon a time in between two volumes
Tomorrow, the State of North Carolina where I live is voting on a proposed constitutional amendment that reads: "Constitutional amendment to provide that marriage between one man and one woman is the only domestic legal union that shall be valid or recognized in this State." There are many
Last night I worked down at Fullsteam Brewery for their “Take a Pint Out of Crime” fundraiser to help replace the smoker someone stole a week or so ago. I was happy to help out because they are my neighbors and it is The Friendliest Room in Durham. I want
Today is a day much like any other day. In the story of Jesus’ death and resurrection, this is the day in the middle. Most stories have a beginning, a middle, and an end. Our Easter story goes the opposite direction, in a way, starting with the ending and then
The early spring has been at cross purposes with my schedule. When the beds were ready to be cleared and prepared for spring vegetables, I was not prepared to plant. When the regular rhythm of rain and spring sunshine made everything in the garden explode, I was not prepared to
Ginger, Rachel, and I got up early to catch a flight from Love Field in Dallas back to Durham. The flight was fine, though the route required of us to stop in Austin and Nashville on the way. And all we did was stop. We never got off the plane.
My parents took us to the Waco Mammoth Site this afternoon. Some years ago, two teenagers stumbled upon some bones in a dry creek bed which led to the discovery of a “nursery herd” (meaning females and babies) of nineteen mammoths that had all died together in a flood during
Ginger and I spent most of the day today at my parents’ house going through things and identifying stuff we want as they prepare to move from their house where they have lived for thirteen years, to a much smaller apartment. The journey through boxes, shelves, cabinets, and closets was
We have made a quick trip to visit my parents—we being Rachel, Ginger, and me – and I say to visit my parents rather than going to Texas because we are spending the sixty-four hours we are here in the Lone Star State with them. The trip was not precipitated