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little houses … for the birds
The boughs of a Chilean mesquite tree hang low in our backyard, weighed down with wind-chimes and things that twirl and spin in warm desert winds. From the uppermost branches, hang bird houses of weathered wood, treasures crafted from trash scavenged by artisan, David Bruce. In his hands, scrap lumber and sheet metal, random doorknobs, rusty garden fixtures, old silver forks and spoons are…
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celebrate the ordinary . . . what’s in your wallet?
Marie’s challenge to Celebrate the Ordinary reminded me of something I used to ask of my Freshman Composition students. Along with formal essays and the dreaded research paper, I required my students to keep a journal, informal “observations and speculations,” the first of which involved contemplating the contents of one’s wallet and surmising what a stranger might guess about the owner’s identity…
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Greg Smith MD writes about growing up and growing older, about accepting ourselves as we are and where we are . . . today.
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sense and sensibility … and sensible hair
“Didn’t we used to call you Crystal Tipps?” Why yes, you did. Relentlessly. It was funnier to you than it was to me. Teetering on the edge of adolescence in the early seventies, I instinctively knew that Crystal’s coiffure, a big triangular purple frizz, belonged only on the BBC, in the groovy world of cut-out animation created by Hilary Hayton.…
