Category Archives: Ponderings on the Meaning of Things

It’s Late October And All Is Well

It’s late October, 2017.  I have nearly completed my seventy-second October, twenty-six of which have been spent here on the Farm amid our fields.  All Octobers are watercolor landscapes, but no two are alike.  As with any watercolor of a similar view painted from a … Continue reading

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Lazing About On An August Morning

I am sitting on our front porch enjoying the quiet of a late August Sunday morning.  I just returned from getting our Sunday papers and stopped here to enjoy the hush I interrupted with uneven steps and the staccato thudding of my cane. A lone single-engine airplane … Continue reading

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I Never Walk Alone

I walked to our mailbox and back yesterday twice (two tenths of a mile per trip) – once with my rollator (a walker with wheels) and once with a quad cane (a cane with four prongs).  Other than being tired from exercise … Continue reading

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Navigating The Shallow Facebook Seas

I first met Danny at my friend Bob’s funeral last year.  Danny is Bob’s nephew and bears more than a passing resemblance to him both in appearance and demeanor.  We talked a bit, but funerals do not promote an atmosphere … Continue reading

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They Also Serve Who Sit And Read

“They also serve who only stand and wait.” John Milton, When I consider how my light is spent Yesterday (a Tuesday in mid-June). Helen sat for two hours in the heart of the day and read a book.  It was raining yesterday, … Continue reading

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Different Strokes

Life is full of unexpected surprises.  Some surprises are good and some are bad, with both sides of the coin ranging from a one (mild, whichever kind of surprise) to a ten (either a wonderful or woeful surprise).  On December … Continue reading

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A Path Through The Worlds

We have lived in our present home for 20 plus years, and the lower part of our driveway consisted of dirt and gravel until two weeks ago.  We finally decided to pave the driveway up to the point of the existing … Continue reading

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Passion, Ruthlessness, Dedication, Courage, And The Novel

                                              Beautiful Thing! the flame’s lover –                                         The pitiful dead cry back to us from the fire, cold in the fire, crying out – wanting to be chaffed and cherished                          those that have written books We read: not … Continue reading

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Man and His Obsessions

Mankind has an obsession with order, so much so that we insist upon trying to impose our notion of order upon nature even while we know that time dooms each attempt we make, and we will need to try again, and again.  In our zealous dedication to this cause, we seem no different from the ants … Continue reading

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Last Light

Sometimes of an evening, when all that remains of a perfect day is a sense of warmth and remembrance, a clear sky, and the sun hanging just above the western horizon, the trunks of our pines are striped by the sun’s … Continue reading

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