Inspiration in Plain Sight — It’s been raining lately in my state, giving lie to the old pop song about how that never happens here. The result is a sky freshly cleaned of its major pollutants so she’s strutting around beyond my window in an azure blue coat. Adamantly blue, certain in her ability to…

How Some Things are Really Grace in Disguise — I have been erroneously sending packages to my neighbor down the street from me. Some sort of snafu in PayPal where I once typed my address wrong and didn’t discover the error until three packages landed six houses away from my house during the pre-Christmas shipping madness. …

Upon Cleaning Greasy Hair Clumps From My Bathtub Drain — I have often wondered who was the man who first proclaimed tidying up to be “women’s work.” I say, pox on him. Really? …

A New Take on an Old Tool — When the tooth fairy finally delivers the magic wand I ordered when I was five I decided I want to have mine breaded and deep fried, a crunchy and delicious tool upon which I can snack and alter the world around me at the same time. Two birds, one stone…

Our Perceptions Are Like a Fingerprint — Hark now, hear the sailors cry Smell the sea and feel the sky Let your soul and spirit fly Into the mystic . . . . . . Van Morrison What do we really know? I would venture to say a few things. What do we really see? Not very…

Boy, Am I Ever an Enigma to My Friends — I am tired of trying to explain myself to others. When they turn to me and ask with an uneasy smile, “So, what have you been up to?” I feel their slight discomfort as I clear my throat and try my darndest in that moment to come up with something…

For Those Destined to Repeat the Past — Too many thoughts, too little writing. This is a morning where I’ve faithfully executed my duty to get up in the dark and start writing down the bones. But the bones are hiding from me and I can’t seem to dig them out from wherever they are buried. Part of…

There But for the Grace of God Go You and I — There is a man across the alleyway behind my house screaming profanities at someone he must really hate and all the dogs are chiming in with their two cents. Sensing his bad vibe with their ultra sensitive ears and canine intuition, they are warning about some catastrophic event that’s about…

Except When It’s Not — He was sitting on his porch with his shotgun resting on his lap. The house behind him was dark and empty. He had sent his family away to hide in the woods. Word had come round earlier so he made the preparations to meet what he had been warned was…