Un-level, defying three principles of physics? Check.

Chickens in the backyard … and sometimes inside? Check.

Old broken appliances displayed on shelves like art? Check

Rocking chairs on front porch, possibly with old man or critter sleeping in them? Check.

Wood floors that have surface termite damage forming a silhouette of Elvis, possibly Abe Lincoln? Check
Continue Reading »

It’s only been about half a year we’ve lived without a dog. A half year out of pretty much my whole life. Yet in that half a year it seems I have forgotten about every … let’s just call it “eccentricity” … that makes a dog a dog.

I wrote something down the other day: “the difference between eccentric and crazy is measured in millimeters.” And it certainly applies here.

How have I forgotten all of these things? That dogs are unique, strange, complicated and totally quirky animals.
Continue Reading »

“Keep your desk clean,” read the Post-It Note affixed to my desk. I might have seen it … if not for the pile of crap covering it over like a beaver’s den.

So much for the power of Post-Its.

Call it a new year’s resolution. Call it my desire to get organized, or to bring feng shui into my life. (Feng shui is a 3,000-year-old Chinese term for harnessing extraordinary power by arranging paper clips into geometric patterns on your desk. It could also be the name of a 3,000-year-old Chinese predecessor to IKEA. I don’t know.)

Anyway, it’s a new year and I’ve gone looking for organization. No more scraps of paper and endless to-do lists everywhere. No stacks and piles that make people think I’m building a bomb shelter. No boxes strewn about so that I have a 1-in-5 shot of blowing out my knee every time I head for the bathroom.
Continue Reading »

I learned a few things over the Christmas holidays — things like this:

• That teaching a kid how to ride a bike without training wheels is harder than … well … having a kid in the first place. My wife might dispute that — I was on the much easier end of that one, I have been told. But she also wasn’t there the fateful day when I unscrewed the training wheels, took my daughter out and tried to set her loose. “Why are you doing this to me?” she screamed as she careened out of control, barely in my grasp. It was the kind of scream you make when you’ve been tethered to a castrated bull. “Give me back my training wheels!”
Continue Reading »