Do you remember when I told you the story of T and Marshal? Seriously, no? C’mon, it was late last summer and I wrote... Read More
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… on the stigma of canine mental illness
We Dingles have a family secret. It’s one of those things that we don’t talk about. A skeleton in the closet, blight on the... Read More
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… on recovered grampa and dogs who choose poo over rabbits
“If the dog hadn’t stopped to shit he’d have caught the rabbit.” Yep. Grampa’s back. He and Granny drove up to see his surgeon... Read More
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… on freakin’ bisquick
I have received many messages over the past few months of this fledgling blog. By far, especially initially, the messages would gently (or not... Read More
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… on it all being greek to me
About a week ago, I got a text from number three son Jack. I should probably point out that number three son Jack is... Read More
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… on an old house and a sign maker named Tim
A few weeks ago, I got an e-mail from Tim Kearns. I’ve never met Tim, but it is no longer rare to do business... Read More
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… on video games for seniors and an opportunity to date up
Today I got my first ‘senior’ solicitation. I was certain that, when this day came, my solicitation would come in the same form that... Read More
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… on a prison break and a very special bawston moment
What were you doing yesterday afternoon at approximately 3:47 p.m.? Huh. Sounds reasonable. You wanna know what I was doing? I was meeting the... Read More
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… on marshal dejeweled, odd metaphors, and being a man
Oh, hey! Sorry for the mess, John’s been gone since Sunday and it’s been pretty hectic. I know I only have one kid at... Read More
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… on an empty nest, temporary ocd, and calvin and hobbes
I’ve written about being a mama bear, even a bristly one. Protecting cubs, advocating for cubs, and the occasional mauling of a particularly obstinate... Read More
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… a poem for my new friend. death becomes her.
The Undertaker’s Rose My new friend wears a great expression Not sadness, anger, nor depression You’d have to offer your concession That ‘happy’ is... Read More
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… on her pies and a golden tassel
Her pies. This conversation started out Friday night with Number One Son, Sam calling from New Orleans to let me know that he was... Read More