A Little Sweet Bowling Vignette: So Old!

I had a running commentary with a younger friend this past year about how very old I am. But for much longer it has been a running commentary with my son, Nicholas. Lifting up a box of books, back going out on our weekly hike, or just moving slowly on a weekday morning, I can…

Oldest River (poem)

Oldest River I was too happy to recognize when it happened to someone else too sad to realize when it happened to me until time passed which did not make me less sad but just slightly very very slightly more aware

Women and Men and Autism: Love and Bathrooms

My son Nicholas, who is autistic, has never really differentiated between men and women. He’s not much of one for differentiation, anyway. So, for example, Mr., Miss, and Mrs. don’t come naturally to him. For most of his life, he has been as likely to get the honorific wrong as right. He was, and still…

Come Fly with Me: Angels Cheer

I am 47 years old. I turn 48 late this month. I haven’t been someone who has ever given too much weight to birthdays or the passing of the years. But this year my impending birthday is hitting me some. I’ve really not thought too much about age until very recently, but at some time…

Some 2015 Photographs

I haven’t been posting photographs on the blog mostly because I forgot I sometimes post photographs on the blog. I post some regularly on Instagram and Facebook, anyway, so this is what Eve once called low-lying fruit. Really I was about to post on Facebook the sleeping woman whose photo I took on Sunday underneath Whitewater…