One could wish for a day that was carbonated, words rising effervescently, even effortlessly to the top, bubbles of hope bursting on the surface. Today is not that day; nor yesterday. I’m waiting for the plumber to come find the block on our main drain, somewhere between here and
if it’s going to be fresh then it must be done everyday: today and tomorrow and the day after that. most of what we think of as life and cooking is preparation, or at least that’s what we call it. in fact, the chopping and peeling, the slicing,
I turn down our tree-lined streets, the empty branches reaching skyward yearning skeletons just now beginning to show signs of new life, the groans of creation tuning up like an orchestra preparing to play a new symphony. Yet, the trees have not been silent all winter. Their shadow song is
Brilliance with numbers is a curious thing. Paul Erdos, a Hungarian who died in 1996, used to travel the world and stop briefly at the offices and homes of fellow mathematicians. “My brain is open,” he would announce as, with uncanny intuition, he suggested a problem that, without realizing it,
A poem is like a ball park (or is the park like a poem?): some precise measurements – the height of the mound, the length of the base paths, the size of the ball – yet each park is its own, each outfield shaped by Green Monsters and short porches; the rules
I spent the weekend leading a youth retreat for a church in Virginia where a good friend pastors. The group of fifteen included kids from seventh through twelfth grade. They are kind, gentle, fun, and welcoming people. The weekend was scheduled to take the word retreat seriously: we have a
"A good storyteller speaks a melody; in conversation there is melody." Mac McAnally, in conversation at Blue Rock) You’ve talked to me for years and I’ve listened. Does that count as conversation? I can still see myself walking out of Baylor Records with a copy of
I've been staring at the screen for awhile now, trying to think of a way to bring this year's Lenten Journal to an end and I have not found them -- at least, I haven't found words of my own. What I have found
Holy Week has had to jockey for space on the calendar this week like an NCAA basketball player working to get in position under the basket. Monday was Saint Patrick’s Day. Tuesday, Barack Obama made his amazing speech on race in America in which, as John Stewart said, “talked
One of the things my friend Mia have in common is we both spent part of our adolescence in Kenya. She sent me a link today to the NPR program, Speaking of Faith with Katrina Tippet, which was new to me because it doesn’t play on our local station.
My most significant Christmas present came from my whole family: sessions with a personal trainer. Since the first of the year, I’ve been seeing Chad (or as I like to call him, “Hanging Chad”) and he has been kicking my butt. The sessions are paying off because I have
Tomorrow is the official beginning of March Madness, or the NCAA Basketball Tournaments for both men and women. In our area basketball matters perhaps as much as anywhere on the planet and the shade of blue you wear to the game is a crucial decision (Duke – dark blue; UNC – light,