Resting On Your Laurels Is Lame

Walt and I are up in New Hampshire getting certified in Wilderness First Responder Medicine, WFR, for short. That way if one of us breaks a leg or develops a pneumothorax (note: this is me showing off) when we’re off the grid, we’ll have a reasonable...

That Tendency To Ignore Blatantly Unpleasant Facts

Like a junkie with a 14-gauge needle, my mother used books to blot out reality. Curled up in her chair, immersed in a novel, she ceased to be aware of anyone or anything around her. When she put her book down, exposed herself to the rage and tension that contaminated...

For The Birds

A blast from the past. Being an introvert, I need a lot of time to myself.  I spend most mornings happily surrounded by a pack of dogs and the quiet. I read, think, and write. Even with Walt present, I can be alone.  He has similar rhythms. We can lose entire days to...

Driving Miss Daisy

I’m learning to drive all over again in Ireland.  This doesn’t sound like a big deal, I know, but it feels death defying.  Most of the time, I pretty much want to scream and cry, or blame my misery on horrible Walt. Smug Walt. Gasp-y Walt. The Irish, for whatever...