I am in here.
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
Yesterday, I got myself two new pairs of shoes. The soles were nice and new, all textured rubber and Vibram and form-fitting. One pair is even totally vegetarian: rubber products and cloth. I didn’t know that you could get vegetarian shoes, but evidently it’s its own category in the shoe world. Maybe my shoe-buying subconscious … Continue reading Hacking my shoes
The chapel, now that I try to remember it, always smelled faintly of incense, though I don’t remember any incense ever having been burned there. Perhaps it emanated from the priest’s dressing room, off to the right by the altar. That room, with a curtain (faded green, like on the cushions of the chairs, and … Continue reading The chapel
My grandfather wanted his own private fiefdom out on the great spread of farmland that he had acquired. To that end (and to many other ends, I suppose), he built and had consecrated his own little chapel, connected to his house by a covered walkway. Stone. Carved woodwork on the small pews. Three windows with … Continue reading The chapel
white pebble 