All afternoon and from inside his parent’s house, as Bill and I sit outside in the comfort of lawn chairs talking, trumpeters one after another run through their scales, do re mi fa sol la ti do, over and over again. The notes drop from the open windows like fall leaves from the trees. It … Continue reading The Music Lesson
(Arcadia, Indiana) The barn yard is silent tonight. After a day of carefree sex, pecking Blackie the Rabbit on the head for eating chicken feed, and scaring the children when they try to collect the eggs, Rusty the Rooster is dead. Long considered the venerable dean of a cadre of free range cocks, he … Continue reading Rusty the Rooster, A Cock of Notable Size, Is No Longer
Because my parents taught me right from wrong, I am going to complete my homework and turn it in. It is the right thing to do. I expect no mercy from the teacher. None.
I crack open a bottle of wine and pour a glass. What, that is what I would have done in high school, just kidding mom and dad. I never would have done that in high school. I was more a Jack Daniels and Coke kid. Did I just say that out loud? Continue reading “The Troublemaker Blend 6”
Stanley Coats, sprawled out in his overalls and dozing on the porch swing, knows he’s becoming the old dog with the saggy balls. The one beginning to get gray around the snout. At the sound of tires on gravel, he lifts his head a little. The dog dozing on the porch floor below him does the same, and they both crack an eye open to see who’s coming up the drive.
The searing pain behind his other eye has abated. Stanley refuses to believe it could have anything to do with a hangover and instead diagnoses himself with becoming his mother. He hopes it’s not terminal.
It’s not that he doesn’t love his mother. It’s the naps. For as long as Stanley can remember, sometime between two or three in the afternoon, his mother always took what he has come to call a twenty-minute sink-down. Continue reading “Stanley Coats: An Introduction”
This morning little Lynnie keeps yelling and pointing in excitement at the cake I made for last night’s Sunday dinner. She is telling me she wants it for her birthday. The heels on the last three slices of the cake have been nibbled. Last night she kept slipping her little hand in and under the … Continue reading Breton Butter Cake
My nephew and I amble slowly up to the creek bank. It’s early enough that the cold morning air causes a light fog to rise off the warm, black water, but does nothing to lift the low-lying cover fogging my brain. I yawn. I wish I’d had that second cup of coffee. It’s hard to … Continue reading Teddy Roosevelt Fished Here
by Lynda Balslev @tastefoodblog.com It’s the weekend of advent, and I am sitting in my California living room, sipping gløgg and watching the flames dance in the fireplace. It’s raining outside. As I listen to the drops furiously pellet the windows and tap dance over the wooden deck, I take another sip of the steaming … Continue reading Advent at Dusk
The sleek, shiny, deep-red locomotive, its coupling rods churning and drivers slipping, trying to get traction, billows out black smoke from its stack as if getting up the nerve to leave the station. It’s a beautiful train with a long line of passenger cars trailing behind. Each car is bursting with people who, dressed in … Continue reading The Hayseed
The tiny bright green stars of okra and the fresh lima beans, so tender the veins show through their thin skins, are nestled into a bed of bi-color sweet corn just shaved off the cob. Together they simmer in a liquid that is mostly melted butter, seasoned quietly with salt and black pepper. Succotash is … Continue reading Heart and Soul
There is never a good time for bad news, but there it is, right in front of me, plain as a shadow on a sunny day. She breaks the news the minute she is in the car. I’m trying to get her in her car seat and the buckle hasn’t even clicked when she blurts … Continue reading The Chess Game