Company’s here.

I don’t know about you, but the news that someone will be visiting sends me into a frenzy every time. Whether a virtual drive-by or for a long sojourn, my friends are, of course, most welcome, but I suddenly spot festooning cobwebs, pollen dust, leaf litter, tired wallpaper, and assorted other distractions, and I don’t know where to start.

Breakfast over and cleaned up, and company coming in a few days, thoughts are ricocheting in my head, “Where to begin?” and “What’s really important?” and “I have plenty of time yet.” Read More»

Company is coming and I’m just sitting here looking at a blank screen, wishing something would remind me that I’ve got to get a column or two written before they arrive.

Inspiration doesn’t work that way, however, on demand. Dave says I need to get into the habit of carrying a notebook and jotting down ideas to tap later when a piece is due.

Me, keep up with a pen and pad here in the house? Surely you jest. That would be just one more thing to go missing, along with keys, cell phone, coin purse, ad nauseam.
So. Let’s just go with “stream of consciousness” here. Read More»

A recent column about canes and walking sticks has generated comments from people I meet, all favorable, of course. I still get around without one, although there are days when I wish I’d brought it along. Read More»

It was on a dark and stormy night last week that the tree broke and came to rest in the rear cockpit of our dry-docked trawler.

That expression, “It was a dark and stormy night,” says it all, conjuring evil and mystery and cold bones on cobbled streets. More interesting than: “Severe thunderstorms will blow through Peachtree City this evening. Ho hum.” Read More»

Some years ago, I wrote about our late former mayor Howard Morgan leaning on a cane when he came to vote at the precinct where I worked.

It was not a cane, he informed me, but a walking stick. He’d had some health problems and all he needed was another leg, so to speak, to form a steadying tripod on the ground.

As we greeted each other and he came closer, I noticed that this was not an ordinary stick. When I admired it, he handed it to me to examine while he went about the business of a democratic government. Read More»

It would appear that the world did not come to an end last Saturday. I’m writing and you’re reading – but could that mean that the Rapture left us behind and we just haven’t yet missed those who were plucked from among us?

Eerie thought.

Let us take comfort wherever we find it. For me, that means playing with words and phrases, in no particular order. Read More»

We heard it soon after we pulled into the state park where we would spend a quiet weekend with friends from church. At least it started out quiet.

So quietly, no one could quite put a time stamp on when they first heard the high-pitched sound of a motor or chainsaw or… whatever it was.

Dave said it sounded to him like an engine had been left on in the afternoon. It’s probably coming from something they’re doing at the dam, he opined, because there’s usually some work going on there.

The sound was absolutely steady, however, never wavering – yet we did not notice when it stopped. Read More»

“Guten Tag, Mutti,” writes Mary, from her post as our Correspondent in Europe. It seems there was a mix-up in schedules, and she made a whirlwind tour that covered southern Germany, Austria, and Switzerland earlier this year.

Mary is not effusive. I may go on for 10 minutes about something I enjoyed, and from her I get a bemused “Umm.” Not to suggest she wasn’t paying attention. Au contraire, she can flash up that conversation years later, and is rarely wrong about details. Read More»

Mary’s vacation plans are beginning to gel. She and Rainer and Hartmut (Rainer’s older son) are going to spend upwards of a week here in August before flying to Las Vegas for a week. Then Hartmut’s main squeeze will link up with them in Vegas and the couples will split off, the younger folks to go on to California for two weeks while Mary and Rainer fly to New York for a couple of days before returning to Germany. Read More»

It was a rough week, last week, when the tribe gathered several times to say goodbye to recent members of the clan. Those left behind look around furtively, wondering, “Who’s next?” as another generation realizes: They are.

I’m an obituary reader. Can’t say I read every word of every obit – but I do read enough to recognize a neighbor or a church member. And I’ve been rolling a thought around in my brain. Read More»