From the Back Porch

Empty spools in male heads then begin to knock together causing mild disorders in male brains. The subtle yet continuous impact of the knocking spools creates escalating irritation that causes some males to exhibit more aggressive behavior than others. This may happen because of spool size. Some men assume that their spool sizes are bigger than other men’s. more

Oh, the night, the night. What a wondrous place it can be. Snuggly poo under the covers. Comfy, cozy sleep. Comfy pillow, snuggle snuggle. Suddenly, a loud retching scream! Another one! I am awake and I dash to the hallway, imagining that one of my children is puking from their bed. Dazed and confused, I call out, "Who is that? Are you all right? more

My sixteen year old son came home from school three days ago and announced, “I can’t breathe.” He pointed to his schnoz. Actually, what he said was more like, “I cad breave. I hab a code in by doze.” more

My mother’s birthday was Sunday, August 9th. This year, she would have been eighty-seven years old. The last time I celebrated my mother’s birthday with her, I was fourteen years old. After that, I was either away in California, or Europe or other places every August, until she died in 1983 when I was twenty-seven. This year made 40 years since I had celebrated her birthday with her. more

It is a night like any other. I climb the steep staircase to the narrow hallway and enter our bedroom. I set my cup of Sleepytime tea with honey on the end table next to the bed. I begin to read The Body in the Library, a Miss Marple mystery by Agatha Christie. more

There were pens and pens of sheep that stretched their necks toward us as we passed. Peter and I found that the more we rubbed their woolly heads and spoke to them, the more responsive they became. After scratching and rubbing two hundred or so sheep around the ears and horns, and looking into their eyes, both Peter and I became profoundly uplifted by the palpable love we exchanged with them. more

We have a yellow lab who loves to swim. About once a week we try to take her swimming at a lake or river near the house. We say, “Bye, bye in the car?” And she cocks her head and begins to cry excitedly, trotting back and forth in eager anticipation. more

One of my best friends died this week. He was very quiet and small. He weighed thirty pounds. His name was Bogey. He was my dog. Rather than dwelling on the question as to whether dogs have spirits and if they do indeed go to heaven, as the movie suggested, I want to talk about friendship. more

I am reading the book, Snow Flower and the Secret Fan. It is a vividly written narrative about women in China in the 1800s. As a western person, I am perplexed by Confucian society. I  wonder about the actual nuts and bolts process of how Confucian thought was implemented and adopted into daily life. more

People tell you that when you have a baby that you’ll forget the pain the next time you have one. I never forget. I vividly remember the realization that a watermelon was making its way through my body and it was going to come out whether I was ready or not. I invite those who have not delivered babies to imagine said watermelon traveling through the body, seeking an exit. Pain is an understatement. more

Astronauts who see the globe from outer space immediately gain the perspective of the earth as a little ship in the universe, teaming with water and life enough to sustain us all. Down here on the ground, we suffer from the “can’t see the forest for the trees” mentality. more

Who would think that one cruise could provide so much fodder for inspiration, but it did! Dinners were the main place we were really able to share a lot of fun with our fellow cruisers. Every night, after watching the early headline performance from about 6 p.m. to 7:30 p.m., we went to the Pacific Dining room for dinner. more

I’ve lived in Maine now for six months. Four of them have been in winter. I have reached the point  when I now expect nothing but snow from now on. I have been conditioned. Spring, summer and autumn are from another life, like vague dreams that haunt me like a song I can’t remember. The white, cold reality seems to be the eternal state of things. I live in Dr. Zhivago’s ice palace. I live in Whoville. My soul is on ice. (Eldridge Cleaver must have lived in Maine.) My friend Melissa, who owns a gardening store, told me she feels like we’re in Narnia and the white witch’s spell is upon us. more

To get on a ship and go deep into temperate waters after living in the dead of Maine winter is other worldly. Our schedule was to be at sea for a day and a half, and then stop in three ports on three consecutive days, and then have one more day at sea before returning to Miami. Our first stop was the Mexican island of Cazumel. more

I just got back from my first cruise. I was invited by Genevieve, my best friend from high school. This was a really cool experience because it was a music cruise. A company called Sixthman partnered with Carnival Cruise line and came up with a unique floating musical festival concept. more

It’s interesting how parts of our lives are a blur when we look back on them. Certain details stand out and we forget the rest. Twenty two years ago, I got a phone call to come home for a few days because my mom was dying. She had been ill with cancer for four years but she was finally losing the battle. more

Driving home one day during a thunderstorm, my little boy, Tadin, and I saw a pathetic, little, brown beagle struggling uphill through the farmland, her little face pelted by the rain. I noticed her worn-out looking underbelly and could see she had some puppies somewhere, so I decided not to stop and bring her home because I didn’t want her pups to starve. Tadin and I hoped she made it home all right. more

Looking at a tree outside my window I saw a tiny sparrow perched on a branch. I wondered what it would be like if there were little bird-sized cats crawling around the branches the way that squirrels do. What havoc that would eke! Eek! more

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