I am in here.
Home was waiting for me when I got back here. I missed this place, but now I miss Boulder just as much. Peter forgot to tell us that the refrigerator broke down, “oh, some time last week.” At least I have a task for tomorrow. I just wish the refrigerator’s inside didn’t smell like a … Continue reading Home was waiting
Since Frederic Remington saw fit to cast bronzes, my father saw it as a responsibility, of a sort, to have a couple of them around. One of them used to stand on the square oak table in the barroom where I did all of my homework until I was in high school. The figure, a … Continue reading Out West: the bronzes
Now I have another favorite food to feel guilty about! Oh well. I have the perfect solution, though. We’ll go to a French bistro tonight. That should fix everything. The sometimes damsel in distress » Blog Archive » 1 satay = 10 cigarettes? Someone told me today that eating one stick of satay is equivalent … Continue reading More food guilt
My father always loved the Old West. Our house walls, downstairs, held what seemed like dozens of paintings of cowboys and soldiers and Indians, and I was brought up to revere the names of Frederic Remington, Charles M. Russell, and George Catlin. I would stare from the vantage points of the game or enemy being … Continue reading Out West
white pebble 