“I cain’t trust you to do a damn thing, Jimbo,” he said, hands shoved in his pockets, one shoulder leaning against the post. Jimbo examined the ash column on the cigarette Hank held between his dry lips as he spoke. It had grown so long, Jimbo could scarcely believe it had not fallen off. “I … Continue reading Morning Miniature 2.20.19
Writing
Morning Miniature 2.19.19
From the looks of the muddy tire ruts in the yard, they’d been there recently. The screen door on the back porch had new holes in it, and as she stood there surveying the detritus strewn everywhere, hands on her hips, a dirty grey kitten climbed out through one of them effortlessly; now the kitten … Continue reading Morning Miniature 2.19.19
Morning Miniature 2.18.19
All the world stretched out before you, alluring and intoxicating. The possibilities seemed infinite, really. What were those ancient, dusty tomes you once fingered, pulled gingerly from the shelves, whose pages drew you in for long hours? And what was that truth you learned, or maybe you heard it somewhere—was it a line in a … Continue reading Morning Miniature 2.18.19
Journal Entry: Sunday Soup and Silver Polish
Polishing the silver on a glorious Sunday afternoon means one of two things: the silver is tarnished, or I’m procrastinating. I leave you to draw your own conclusions. Today I had a vestry meeting after church, which meant I got home mid-afternoon, antsy to move around after sitting on my bum for about three hours … Continue reading Journal Entry: Sunday Soup and Silver Polish
Morning Miniature 2.17.19
She gazed through ancient bubbled glass at the light behind the mountain, now discernible only as a warning of the coming day, but crystalline still, leaving little of the ridge to the imagination. It was glorious. There rose the peak in its imposing form, clear and perfect, but clamoring for attention with trees and roof … Continue reading Morning Miniature 2.17.19
Memoir: Gettin’ My Mojo On
/mō·jō/ noun 1. a magic charm, talisman, or spell. Heck, I’d add super power to that list. Why not? Somebody inadvertently rattled my cage not long ago when they suggested blogging is obsolete. I saw it float by in a comment thread on one of my social groups on the web. (I believe the precise words were, … Continue reading Memoir: Gettin’ My Mojo On
Dear Gmail: Please Stop Putting Worms Words in My Mouth
In what I’ll characterize as AI run amok, this past spring Gmail (Google, that is) snuck in a little auto-suggest module (called ‘Smart Compose’) ostensibly to help compromised Gmail users—I mean, what other explanation is there, gentle reader? I understand the temptation to do this: so many folks these days struggle to cobble together a … Continue reading Dear Gmail: Please Stop Putting Worms Words in My Mouth
Writing Story: A School Is a Place to Learn
The Episcopal School of Knoxville will turn 20 this coming fall, inconceivably. My 20-something kid was a kindergartner in its inaugural year, 1998. This matters to me mainly because it’s a school my ex and I founded, together with a few other families, the culmination of a mammoth effort that was about five or so … Continue reading Writing Story: A School Is a Place to Learn
Equivocating My Way Through Life
When your mom is a ballerina, and other members of your family’s network—friends and other relatives—are involved in ballet or other performing arts, people expect you will go down that road, too: it’s only natural. My earliest memories are attached to ballet mainly, and they are powerful and sensorial: I can’t smell rosin or walk … Continue reading Equivocating My Way Through Life
Find a Penny
You are a hoverer, I said to the twenty-something this morning, aware of his presence just behind and to the left of me while I was kneading biscuit dough. A what? A hoverer: whatever I’m doing, there you are, hovering like a helicopter. The other morning you were standing there at the bathroom door talking … Continue reading Find a Penny
Sycamore Stories 