It’s Been A Quiet Week
“It was a quiet week in Lake Wobegon, my home town,” is how Garrison Keillor – one time Minnesota Public Radio host of Prairie Home Companion – used to start out each weekly monologue on
READ MORE“It was a quiet week in Lake Wobegon, my home town,” is how Garrison Keillor – one time Minnesota Public Radio host of Prairie Home Companion – used to start out each weekly monologue on
READ MOREOn the last night of a year, I traditionally write down my reflections while others write down resolutions. In my lifetime, the most impressive turning of the calendar came when the millennium changed. It was
READ MORETwo years ago, I planned to throw my book a grand coming out party and then, head back to Saltillo, Coahuila, Mexico, to reunite with my first Spanish-speaking friends – the ones that, unbeknownst to
READ MORENovember. My month. November, trying to push October’s startling yellows, reds, and oranges to the ground in gusts of 40 m.p.h. winds from the west. November clouds seem darker, perhaps because they harbor possibilities of
READ MOREIt’s in the air. Change. The mercury falls to the number 32. The clock reads 6:20 a.m., but light has not returned to the morning like it did just a few weeks ago. The coyotes
READ MORERobert burst into the kitchen, “The monarchs are here! They’re in the prairie on the Blazing Stars!” I put down the zucchini I was shredding for lunch, wiped my hands on my apron, and grabbed
READ MORE“What I believe in is ‘joyful fatalism’ – my own term,” Patti told me as we caught up after a 37-year-haitus. In 1985, Patti and I were Spanish teachers, she in Iowa and I, in
READ MOREA Sunday in late June, anticipated since the dark, icy days of January, finally arrived with the blue skies and green grass expected of such a day in Minnesota. The enthusiastic committee members had spent
READ MOREA thunderstorm roared through this morning, knocking out the electricity, uprooting a dozen trees, and producing excellent mosquito hatch conditions. This is exactly the type of morning you don’t want to wake up to if
READ MORELife is returning to my tundra. Like old friends, the cooing of the mourning dove greets me, mixed with the peenting of the snipe on my walks down gravel roads. Robins land on the overhead
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