A post-Thanksgiving walk through fog, rain, and slushy snow on the edge of the Opal Creek Recreation Area in the Cascade Foothills:
After a busy day of dealing with car repairs and shopping for Thanksgiving food, I didn’t want to walk the dog in our nearby park. I really didn’t. (…)
The house wrens nesting on our yurt porch chose this morning, the 4th of July, to shoo their young ones out of the nest.
I revised my St. Patrick’s Day post from last year and posted it at Fictionaut. A commenter there bestowed on me the Gaelic version of Elizabeth….
I used to be the Christmas tree enthusiast in the family. I’d drive around Seattle for hours looking for the perfect tree, set it up, decorate it….
I feel like a grumpy, old bear this holiday season. I don’t want to put my energy into decking halls. I avoid shopping as much as possible. I have no idea what to get anybody, and the muzak playing everywhere makes me want to poke holes in my ear drums….
I began blogging a year ago by reflecting on the challenges of Balancing Work and Play. I still haven’t figured that out, but I know what helps with that and with surviving this dark season: humor….
On Thanksgiving, we couldn’t bear to slice and roast this huge homegrown potato face. Nor could we boil and mash it….
I’m miles from town, so there will be no trick or treaters for me tonight. Instead, I’ve decided to mark the day by highlighting some posts I’ve written on creatures that tend to be maligned, misunderstood and caricatured on Halloween….