Monthly Archives: November 2013
Bars
I grew up a son among daughters; one older sister, two younger. Within the world of our family, the inclusive world that we shared with cousins and aunts and uncles and relatives of indefinite connection, there were other circles of existence that were equally exclusive. The adult world beyond the borders and just out of … Continue reading
Alleys
Neighborhoods no longer have alleys. I am not sure when this practice stopped, but when I was growing up on the west side of LA, alleys seemed to be the norm. Of course they were handy, acting as sort of a service bay for homes, sporting trashcans, garages, and boats, but they also offered … Continue reading
‘55
“In the sun that is young once only Time let me play and be Golden in the mercy of his means” D. Thomas The year was 1955, Ike was finishing his first term and LA was a world waiting to be explored. On a Saturday morning, once we were up and fed, my … Continue reading
Wood
I had a cord of wood delivered last week: nice aged oak, cleanly split and stacked. It pleases me to see it all the side of my driveway. There was a time when a cord of wood would have been a great luxury. The house that we purchased when we first came to the valley … Continue reading
1/4 Tank
My friend, Dave, once asked me, “If you had ¼ tank of gas left in your car, and that was all the gas that you could get, would you not be very careful as to how you use that gas?” Well, he continued to express that we have, at best, a ¼ tank left and … Continue reading
Chimes
This morning, quite early, I woke to the sound of a wind chimes softly ringing in our arbor, but there was no wind. I rose and stood bare footed (and bare assed) at the sliding door to our yard and looked to the trees, which were still. Perhaps I imagined it. The chimes are … Continue reading
COMING OFF THE STREAM
Tracing my steps from pool to pool, I head back to the car. The path back to the road is barely discernible in the shadows of the evening. No moon yet, I point my rod behind me to not snap it on some tree. The car is dark. Bulla is still on the stream. I … Continue reading
Books
I have weaned myself from books several times in my life. At 17, I left home for a year and then went in the service. In my time away, everything from my childhood disappeared when my parents left the family home for simpler quarters. (I am not sure what was going on in their … Continue reading