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The Scent Of Time

My mom’s birthday was March 25th, and I didn’t notice … she died in 2012, so while I’m sure she didn’t notice either it’s an odd feeling  that the day passed for me as nothing more than another ordinary Sunday.  I thought about it, and her, today when I read a wonderful piece in the New York Times titled, “Smells Like Home”.  Maybe more impactful than the article itself were the multiple comments from folks who contributed their little bits of themselves and what they remembered; what prompted their emotional reactions and why.  Really wonderful stuff overall, and more than worth a Sunday read.

Who Could Argue?

I was a child in the sixties, and grew up with Billy Graham on our little black and white TV.  We weren't an overtly Christian family (far too admittedly dysfunctional), but he was my parental attempt at being mainstream, I suppose.  My Mom loved him, so I did. 

In a past life I was very close to someone who worked for  Samaritan's Purse as first a missionary and then, eventually, a numbers cruncher.  As the former, his family suffered due to his long absences and meager pay.  The latter came to pass because four kids and a wife finally said no more to both.  Even as true believers, the family complaints (and questions) were eventually enough to make the difference.  He was able to stay closer to home, though his pay was still minimal.

Good Bread

It’s the evening of December 31, 2017.  ‘Round these parts it’s currently nine degrees below zero outside, but it’s toasty warm in the kitchen now that the bread’s done.  Smells heavenly … a good loaf.  Must admit to the addition of pineapple juice, butter, ginger and brown sugar to the proofed yeast and flour that gives it an official Hawaiian bent, but it’s a loaf just the same.  The man in the house says dinner is around the bend now that I’ve told him the kitchen is his; he makes a mean cast-iron steak and mushroom gravy.  We’re going fancy with the asparagus, but it goes with what we w

Are We Still Here?

I wrote a comment earlier in response to someone with whom I didn’t disagree; a comment that mostly wrote itself:

People are generally kind and helpful by nature, and it's not just about tribe.  It's about being human at our core - the place that makes us love puppies, kittens, babies and cheese.  The place that makes the country stand still over a child trapped in a well or a bunch of miners slowly dying on the job.  The place in our gut that cries when someone dies and celebrates amazing achievements by those who seem like less yet feel like more somehow.  The place that makes us all worth fighting for.

Here's To Us!

Hi there, come on in.  No, it’s okay, there aren’t too many of us yet so you’re good.  Thanks!  That looks fabulous!  I’ll take it to the kitchen while you find a place to settle in … yeah, I know, my thoughts exactly.  But there’s plenty of time for that.  Oh!  You snuck in on me!  I’m so glad you’re here, I was really hoping you’d stop by tonight but I wasn’t sure.  You brought who?  Wonderful!  It’s been so long … give me a hug.  Okay!  You all know where to plant yourselves so head on in while I get everything together.  It’s food, drink and conversation tonight, folks … but if anyone touches the TV it’s gonna get ugly, just as a warning.



Our president calls those who oppose his policies, executive orders and general theatrics his enemies while his spokespeople who hold positions of unwarranted power declare the media corrupt.

That one sentence scared me as I wrote it – and it’s extremely benign compared to what has been and will be written … or not.  Where even the internet and our freedom to use it goes from here is under attack; at this point opening our mouths to speak may be.

How long do we wait?  How long do we laugh at the joke that hurts?


Don't Ya Think?

Hi there, come on in.  A bit blustery tonight, isn’t it?  Well, at least it’s not pouring down rain … what?  Yeah, it’s weird when that happens.  Anyway, come inside and get comfortable while there’s still plenty of room on the couch.  Hey!  Look at you trying to sneak in with that yummy looking stuff … I promise it’ll make it to the kitchen in one piece … really!  Very funny, just give it to me and grab a seat.  Somebody save me a spot on the floor and put some music on!

Where Are Your Albums?

Hi there, come on in.  It is, isn’t it?  It feels like such a long time since we’ve been able to share a lovely night like this … hmm?  Oh, that would be wonderful, but I doubt we’ll get that lucky.  It’s still just January!  Who?  No, I haven’t now that you mention it.  Did you hear something?  Is everything okay?  Yeah, you’re right, it’s just me being paranoid because of, well, you know.  He’ll show up eventually, so in the meantime let’s get inside and grab somewhere to plop and something to eat – not necessarily in that order!

Hi there, come on in.

Hi there, come on in.  Here, I’ll take that.  No, don’t worry about getting anything wet … it’s not like it hasn’t rained, snowed, sleeted or cussed us out before, right?  Believe me, this carpet has seen more of this mess than I want to think about!  Just come in and get warm, that’s what’s important right now.  I know, I know … but that’s why we’re together.

An Open Door

Hi there, come on in.

It’s been awhile, hasn’t it?  Yeah, I know!  Kick your shoes off if you want to and grab a seat somewhere … what?  Oh, sure, I’ll take that.  Looks like there’s an open spot on the sofa, or just grab a place on the floor.  The infamous ugly blue chair is open but, as always, you might end up with a happy dog on your lap.  Too funny!  Of course I remember that!


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