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Month: March 2018

A kid’s tour of the West, part two

(This is the second part of a series of stories that compose a larger travel memoir. It stands on it’s own. If you’d like to read the previous installment, see it here.) Bill, a middle-aged former CEO and company owner, stood about a little over five and a half feet…

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A kid’s tour of the west, part one

My breath caught in my chest as I looked over my shoulder. It looked like Sydney was going to fall 800 feet to the bottom of Canyon de Chelly. As we walked, we couldn’t move farther from the edge. The great rock faces of the bluffs, covered with hues of…

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My son, the pyro

Nick had a choice. He could prune vines or go on poop patrol. He chose vine pruning. Maybe it was having a choice or having to work outside, but he faced the day cheerfully. We planned working in the yard a couple of hours and he pulled his shoes on…

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How I almost wrecked the car and ruined everything

Sydney just didn’t get what I wanted. That, or she wasn’t communicating with me in a way I could understand. We weren’t lost. I just didn’t know which way to go. I asked her to let me see the map. She wouldn’t. I thought that if I could get a…

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One big pile of dirt

Ten years ago in June, after months of politicking, cajoling, and wheedling, I stood out in a thundetstorm and shoveled what used to be horse manure, leaves, and tree limbs into a hole the size of a half a tennis court. Nine tons of topsoil made from these fine ingredients…

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