I may have written about this before, but I’m old, and I think I’ve earned the right to repeat myself occasionally. When I was a graphic designer, one of my longest clients was the organization behind a local 12k race known around the world (not an exaggeration) as Bloomsday. For twenty-five years I provided advertising and marketing materials for the annual race, held in Spokane on the first Sunday in May (note: the 49th running …
A Halloween story
Our yearly trip was, as usual, full of adventure, misadventure, and lessons learned.
This is a short story about The Sift, a timeless place somewhere between Heaven and Hell.
It’s finally warming up around here. Time to think about showing some skin!
She was always the storyteller. She could make them up on command. Anytime. Anywhere. I remember one summer afternoon in 1968, we were waiting in the car while Mom was in the grocery store. It was warm and the windows were down, letting in a cool south Seattle breeze. “See that man right there?” she asked me. “The sweaty one with the blue shirt and the frown?” “Yeah,” I said. “He just came to the …
It’s been sixteen days since we were taken hostage. This is my secret note to the outside world. Hopefully someone will read it and spread the word of our plight. Though I have little hope for ourselves at this point, it may help others who find themselves in similar straits. Our captor is sleeping at the moment, and I have to be very careful as I’m typing not to make excessive noise, lest he wake …
This is a very short story I wrote several years back. It seems appropriate to haul it out every time – in the words of a certain congress critter – “some people do something”.
Our friends looked at us in shock when we told them of our sleeping arrangements. Previously, the only decision regarding sleeping arrangements in our house had to do with who spoons who. That was until we started letting the dogs sleep on the bed with us. After that, there was no spooning. In fact there was no room for any utensils. Frankly, I do miss the forking. We’re accustomed to strange looks when people learn …
It was late September, 2022. The Missus, the dogs, and I were camping in Farragut State Park in northern Idaho. The weather was beautiful with warm days and cool nights that herald the approach of fall and the reluctant passing of summer. We were there to enjoy nature and celebrate our 30th anniversary. On that day, we decided to drive to the east side of the lake, looking for a way to an isolated campground …
