I keep catch myself thinking like an ‘old person’. More than one I’ve thought “perhaps we should go for dinner a bit earlier, you know before the restaurant gets really busy and the service gets slow’’.
I can trace my path to thinking like this back to when I commuted to work by train.
For the first year or two I thought it was sad that some people stood in the same spot on the platform every morning.
I made … more
While I was hiding from COVID, I spent a lot of time writing. Usually, using one of the three fountain pens I acquired during the first month of ‘sheltering-in-place.’
Of course, I could have written with one of the many pencils I own — I have a bit of a pencil addiction.
Still, I felt this past year —more than any other year —was worth memorializing in ink on nice paper.
For the ink, I settled on Pilot Iroshizuku Kon-peki. … more
This was a writing class exercise.
I remember Miss Gallagher, my primary school teacher. She was the best daytime Mom.
I remember my childhood dog, Kim. He was afraid of everything.
I remember soccer games at school. I hated that stupid game.
I remember fighting Bobby McDonald when I was six years old. My first and only playground scrap.
I remember wearing shorts and Wellington boots on cold, rainy days. And the red marks the boots left on … more
