September 1, 2016

Passing Milfin, passing Loxley. You say don’t you remember coming down here, two lanes and those azaleas, demented, big as houses, bringing down the gutters. Squinting for the memories, so dark on this stretch and nothing feels familiar. It was easy peasy "59," now with the grown-up name. "Parkway" makes it a parkway. Everybody knows that. I'm sorry...where...

July 9, 2016

When you were out with your girlfriend down in the boondocks and your truck got stuck in the mud and there was no way to call someone to pull you out and no GPS to tell you where the nearest house was or gas station and no smart phone to keep your brain alive until it died along with the car battery from playing Eagles Greatest Hits Volume II on endless repe...

January 7, 2016

All morning long and all afternoon it rained and rained at the healing house. I call it the healing house because of its magical ability to slow down time. And when I’m here I do feel better, as do most people who walk through these gates. It is an unassuming place. You wouldn’t know it from the street, but miracles happen here. We wander the gardens and the...

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