Once upon a time, there was an old woman who believed in the magic of books. In the days of folk and fairy tales, she would have been called a crone, a character type in literature rarely included in the epics of male heroes and adventurers. A crone was a female long past her prime, …
She lay on the cold metal. All her sisters were gone. She was damaged, threads dangling from her clothes, and the broomstick ripped from her hand. She was a dollar store discard, worth 100 pennies, but because of the shaky world economy, she now costs $1.25. She was alone on the bottom level near the …
I'm easily distracted. I'm the human personification of the popular cliche about the dog who loses all focus with the shouting of the word "squirrel!" I am interested in everything, with a gleeful love affair with the world, enjoying sociology, art, and interacting with people, as well as nature, cities, and rocks, among other things. …
I think they were maroon-colored, upright soldiers standing at attention in a uniform line on one of the lower shelves of the bookcase my father had built for our living room. Looking back, they were a bit of democracy, readily available for all if the inclination was there. Everyone in my community had a set …
A curse, some coins, and a killing. Little did I know that a road trip to an abandoned mental hospital would lead me to a story about the art world, a scandal, and a tragedy. I believe everyone I meet is a teacher ready to expand my worldview and increase my knowledge. The antique shop …
I wish I hadn't found the two old books. Their stories upset me and took me to a dark place I really didn't want to go. "Civilization is a hopeless race to discover remedies for the evils it produces."--Jean Jacques Rousseau I have become a scavenger, constantly looking through the shelves of old shops and …
I knew the man didn't like me as soon as I looked into his eyes. I hadn't noticed him as I walked into the darkness of the museum toward the ticket booth. He was about 80 years old and wearing a Duke University baseball cap, and he was directly in my path. He tapped his …
Continue reading The Lessons of Gossip, Slander, and Name Calling
I had a holin my heart. I could feel it. The world was getting back to normal, but on a personal level, I didn't know what that meant for me. Was I suffering a form of PTS? I felt numb, aimless. I had great ideas for my blog, but after many attempts to write them …
Continue reading Mining for My Soul and Discovering the Souls of Others
When I was newly divorced and my kids were off to college, I used to go to a place with a band every Friday evening with my single female friends. Heads up and stomachs sucked in, we pretended to be aloof. Neon beer signs, the tiny red dots on the sound equipment, and a street …
Being involved with the rural North Country is like being in a bad love affair. The summer woos me with warm breezes off one of the Great Lakes and the river. It offers me lush greens and sunlit days. It entices me with many lavish experiences: picnics under the trees, quiet moments on the shore, …
The Autonomous Traveler 