Monthly Archives: August 2016
Rolling R’s
This is hard, this business of writing the thousand word that those pictures are supposedly worth. No wonder I initially just posted them sans mots! So I’ve decided to take a little rest, as you perhaps can tell. In the meantime, something else has come up. I’ve stumbled on an online language site that has consumed […]
The Camper
1. Prelude Ok, then. What shall we say about the humble little camper sitting there shining in the morning sun? Some of you might have suggestions. Maybe you’ll remind us that this was the place where Bunka slept. How you told us to be quiet when we walked by the camper late at night. Or […]
The Outhouse
1. Getting Things Wrong “You got a few things wrong in that story about the white table,” my mother said. “I kinda expected that,” I said. The truth of the matter is that I figured that’s the way “oral” history goes, so I told it as best I could. “But don’t be timid mom,” I […]
The Hill by the Lake
Let’s try this again, shall we. There is a story behind this picture, just as there are stories behind the others that I posted a few days ago. Know that when I talk about the hill by the lake or the cottage on the hill, that this is the place. Generations ago, my great grandfather […]
White Pine Mea Culpa
Wait, David. Close your eyes. That red table on the hill nailed to that tree. Can you see it, David? I see it. The tree. Now look closely at the tree. And at the bark, look at the bark. Do you see it? Yes, I see it. Look closer. Can you see the texture? How […]
The Worth of a Picture
He has become lazy. He doesn’t write much, anymore. He just posts pictures. He must not have anything to say. It is true, that there have been a lot of pictures here. (I hope you’ve enjoyed them maybe a little.) And it is also true that many have been unencumbered by text. (I hope that […]
Sixteen
Today is Mr. Guinness’s birthday. Fifteen years ago, Trudy threw a party for him. It was his first, and to celebrate, she had invited the dogs up and down the street to a party where they wore party hats and ate hot dogs. I can only imagine the event, because Trudy and I had only […]
If It Were a Normal Year
If it were a normal year, the creeks would have dried up long ago. If it were a normal year, the grass would be brown. It it were a normal year, the rain barrels would be empty. But the rain barrels are full. And the grass, in mid August, is lush and green. And water […]