You all have strict orders from me to drive safely, eat lots of watermelon and hot dogs, and get yourselves ready to read a good book!
It’s a fine and natural thing to remember those who have gone before.
I’m thinking today of my Grandma Wiley. She wasn’t a blood grandmother, but she certainly filled the role, just the same.
She had spirit, I’m here to tell you.
Grandma was raised outside of Coffeyville, Kansas–I hope I spelled that right–and used to tell me about the day the Dalton brothers tried to rob the bank. They were a bad bunch … Read More »

…in a time bearing a strange and sweet resemblance to NOW, there was a rose, slumbering in the shadow of a wall, dreaming. Sometimes, those dreams were scary, but they were always marked by a mysterious yearning. The rose, you see, did not know it was a rose. It thought, in the confusion of slumber, that it had once been a weed, torn asunder and scattered upon hard and unyielding ground, where it could not take root. But sometimes, it heard a Voice, or thought it did. “Wake up!” the Voice said. It was gentle, but it was insistent, too. … Read More »