- Edgar Allen Poe - It was many and many a year ago, In a kingdom by the sea, That a maiden there lived whom you may know By the name of Annabel Lee; And this maiden she lived with no other thought Than to love and be loved by…
Remembering Grandma Dot
When the boys and I were growing up, Thanksgiving Week meant many things to us. Grass stains on the already stressed knees of our jeans, the anticipation of succulent turkey, hours of football with our dad (it may have been called "touch" football, but there was quite a lot of…
Meandering - Volume I
I have a dear friend with deep convictions. When she curls up at the other end of my couch and wages theological battle against me, no matter how minor our topic might actually be, it makes me happy. Talking with her like this, my twenty-one-year-old friend who is the essence…
Bike Memories
Last week, I went for my first bike ride since I was a student living in Davis. We borrowed my parents' bikes after work and went our for a quick spin. Jon and I buzzed down the street and flew past vineyards and cruised along under the clear blue sky.…
Summertime at The Stanford - Volume II
Yesterday, I found myself chanting along with a hundred screaming ten and twelve-year-olds. We were sitting in the shirtsleeves of a small baseball diamond on the Sinnott Elementary School campus in Milpitas, and Mr. P was stepping up to the plate. The annual softball match between the Sinnott Teachers and…
Evaluation
Drops of perspiration trembled along my jawline, clustering defensively in the face of gravity, and then splashed onto my bare, pumping thighs. We have a 'new' exercise bike, gifted to us by a friend who has acquired truly new exercise equipment and needed the space. The bike sits in our…
Remembering Grandma Jean
My mom's mom, my Grandma Jean, passed away before I was born. Taking from the scraps of memory and reminiscence and photos and memorabilia I've collected over the years, I know she was a bright, beautiful, sensitive, creative, troubled, clouded, precious soul. In the picture at left, she's bent at…
Faith at First Sight
Yesterday, I listened to an interview with Erik Reece, an author and English professor at the University of Kentucky. When he was young, he lost his preacher father to suicide. Understandably, Reece grew up at odds with a church which pounded fear and guilt into (and, perhaps arguably, out of)…