Let’s Hear the Story!
Before we begin, you need to go back and look again at A Cross Tic, my previous entry. Call it homework. I fear most of you missed the acrostic (not...
Author: Hurls
A Cross Tic
I’m addicted to writing, mostly because I’m infatuated with words, and by extension, word games. Wordle and Strands, for example. It’s a lifelong obsession. I recall as a young buck...
The Value of BMS*
(*Not an accepted acronym for anything I know of and not affiliated with Bristol Myers, batter manufacturers, or any bowel syndrome. Especially the last one.) When my kids were little,...
If Death Were a Turkey Farm
In case you’re wondering if there’s some sort of announcement here (like in the previous blog), there is not. Melanie and I are in fine health, thanks mostly to her....
A Life in the Day
(I wrote this post two weeks ago, but I had to put a lid on it until the news became public. If you don’t mind, just pretend it’s two weeks...
To Be or Not To Be (a Texan)
In Septemeber, 2020, Melanie and I moved to Texas after living in Chicago for 35 years. Before Chicago, it was Orange County, CA for five years and before that was...
Liar’s Dice
Sometimes, I just feel like telling a story. This is one of those days. Around 2005, I was still in the midst of working full-time, laboring in room 133 at...
A Thing to Fear
The fictional TV detective Adrian Monk has a lengthy inventory of fears–312 to be exact, if Monk Wiki can be trusted. It begins innocuously enough. Germs, needles, and dentists head...
What Do I Have in Common with a Six-Year-Old?
The short answer is, more than I care to admit. Read on for the long answer. Yesterday, my granddaughter Ruby (“Rubes” to me) graduated from Suncreek Preschool. It was a...
Shoes, Dogs, and Little People
Yesterday, I went to Cotton Patch Cafe with Melanie, aka, Girlfriend/Brown-Eyed Girl/Mellie/Mommel. The restaurant is sort of knock-off of Cracker Barrel–lots of fried chicken, sweet tea, and buttered rolls. They...
