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Jilda and I had a minor crisis in our lives this past week. Our coffee maker died. It was a slow, tragic death. Read more

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My Dad’s birthday was this week. He would have been 96 years old. Read more

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There is a mossy rock in the hollow behind our barn. It’s nestled under a canopy of oak, hickory and pine trees. It’s a peaceful place. Read more

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The nature of our backyard changed this summer. We have a new swing. Read more

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I caught a bug when I was in Telluride, Colorado, several years ago. It’s rarely fatal, but I’ve found it’s incurable. Professionals call it “fly fishing fever.” Read more

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