As much as I appreciate receiving holiday letters from friends and family, at first they made my 2023 seem rather humdrum. Sherry and I received dozens of holiday cards with delightful letters and pictures. I’ve never seen so many beautiful beaches. A whole slew of our …
(inspired by George Jones) Give me just one more day, Lord, and I promise: To eat the blackened banana and leave the yellow one for Sherry. To tell my three best friends I love them. To stop feeling sorry for myself, even when I’m hurting. To open doors for teenagers at the …
I’m observing. The place is a cozy wine bar in Reno, a place where older couples often meet for the first time after connecting online, sending attractive photos and serving up clever banter. She arrives first, choosing a table in the back corner facing the front door. She …
I can’t wait. Laughter and love will fill our little apartment. Dad will be placing the angel on top of our tree. The whole family will cheer and hope he doesn’t fall off the kitchen chair once again. Our friend, Clyde Reid, will be messing with the rabbit ears on top …
The latest studies from fancy universities are attempting to steal many of my favorite moments. I’m told I can’t eat chocolate milkshakes or Cinnabuns. A hot cup of coffee in the afternoon? No way. Can I bask in the sun? Not on my life. Now, research at Columbia University …
My mom, Irene, was a great cook. However, she had one conspicuous culinary flaw that weighed heavily on many parts of Story County, Iowa. She loved to make holiday popcorn balls. They were red and green and huge (think of the size of a croquet ball, then double it). There …
I think we all remember little kindnesses that drop on us like the first warm raindrops of a summer shower. I’m collecting 100 such kindnesses to put in a little book to share with friends and family. If you get in the mood, I’d appreciate if you send me one or a few of …
You might think I had a wild and crazy time. You would be wrong. It was more like putting on a warm sweater and snuggling into memories of long ago. A few observations: Only old people showed up. Imagine that. I didn’t recognize many faces at first, but after the first words …
The longer I live, the more I think of our lives as pieces of art. As an artist, I view myself as wrapping up the last few chapters of my book. Or I’m adding additional hues of green to my watercolor painting. Then my mind goes to what others may think of my art piece. …
I think of my brain as a bucket. Throughout my life, I stored new knowledge in it to become a wiser man. At 75, I recognized my bucket was beginning to leak at the bottom. Things I had learned over the years were beginning to drip out. This began to worry me. I came …
