In My Room . . . .Contented. . . .
I suppose it’s wrong to say one is ferociously comfortable — the adverb and adjective rather work against each other, don’t they? But every once in a while — once, twice a year if I’m…
View PostI suppose it’s wrong to say one is ferociously comfortable — the adverb and adjective rather work against each other, don’t they? But every once in a while — once, twice a year if I’m…
View PostMy Sunday survey makes it clear that my postings have become fewer. This week, I only managed three: On Monday, I showed you some Marine Style. Wednesday’s post was a long one, thinking through Generational…
View PostOften, as we’re finishing dinner and clearing away the dishes, rhythmic, forceful tones crescendo into our consciousness, and by the time we look towards the water, the outrigger is already halfway across our slice of…
View PostI suspect you’re all out in the last summer sunshine, perhaps with your families, friends, loved ones, perhaps enjoying some solitude. I notice that my blog stats show fewer readers this weekend, and I think…
View PostThis day last year . . . Happy Anniversary, you two! What a beautiful day that was, my loved ones altogether. Here, my son with his three older sisters. . . the little guy grew…
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