My Angry Toe, a Soleful Tale

For three weeks my right pinky toe has been red, swollen and angry. I tried soaking it in Epsom salts.  I tried changing up my shoes. Finally I made an appointment with my podiatrist, actually the replacement podiatrist since mine had retired and sold his practice to a woman half my age. I’d seen her… Continue reading My Angry Toe, a Soleful Tale

Spinach Salad, Fog and Smoke

A change-up in the routine is not always a good thing. I bravely ventured away from my regular meals and went to lunch during the pandemic with a friend the day after Labor Day. My Android phone couldn’t scan the bar code to get to the online menu, so my friend read my choices to… Continue reading Spinach Salad, Fog and Smoke

Laugh More, Worry Less

The state is on fire, again. It seems that three of the last four years have been off the charts for wild fires. 2017 – Napa and Santa Rosa burned. Santa Barbara County, too. 2018 – Paradise, the town, was wiped off the map. 2019 – Because of heavier winter rainfall, the fires weren’t so… Continue reading Laugh More, Worry Less

Rocky Mountain Low

(re-run) He was the good-looking cousin of my best friend. Tall, tan, and bearded, with a killer smile, it was love at first sight. Marcus had moved from Minnesota to Colorado to be near his sister. He asked if I wanted to come out and go backpacking with him. I said yes but that my… Continue reading Rocky Mountain Low

Waitresses Make the Best Tippers

(re-run) After moving to Omaha and teaching for a couple of years across the Missouri River in Council Bluffs, Iowa, I grew tired of driving a car that smelled like a mildewed basement. My poor Chevy Monza had suffered through a Nebraska flood back at the farmhouse, and the car stank. I couldn’t afford a… Continue reading Waitresses Make the Best Tippers

The Shame of my Generation

(re-run) I am ashamed of some of my friends. Let’s just say we are in the senior citizen range, from fifty-five and up. Way up. Some of them are in their eighties. They are making fun of youth marching in the streets for climate change. They are attacking Greta Thunberg, the Swedish teenager who started… Continue reading The Shame of my Generation

The Story of my Picker

When I had a shop, it attracted lots of individuals who wanted to sell me antiques. Some of them had good stuff. Others had junk. Many wanted too much for their inherited mementos. One old guy brought me cracked and chipped tea cups and got mad when I wouldn’t buy them at any price. A… Continue reading The Story of my Picker

Bomb Shelter Blues

Our house on 69th Street in Urbandale, Iowa, had a big bump in the backyard. It’s where my grandfather built a fall-out shelter that connected to our basement. It was during the Cold War, and thoughts of atomic bombs being dropped on us was enough to motivate him to save his daughter and five of… Continue reading Bomb Shelter Blues