Monday, January 23, 2017


As I see everyone getting older, 
I know that soon enough I will
miss the old fashioned ladies
that we knew when we were
young. All that makeup and 
all those floral dresses and 
bonnets and perfume
and knitting needles
and cups of tea and
little stale cookies.

I wish I could say
something more,
but what more can 
you say when they 
are gone?  I think
they are gone


Tuesday, January 03, 2017


While watching a film about an abandoned ranch in southern California, it occurred to me that the house I live in now is different from every other house I have ever occupied in one regard: I no longer own a telephone. In every house I have ever lived in, I had to make an accommodation for an object that was about nine inches wide by ten long, and about inches five deep, weighing three or so pounds. As I look at this house I have to speculate as to where I would put an object like that now. Most likely on my desk in the living room, to my left, so that I would not get tangled up in wire when I answered it. In that space today is a wind-up bull (origin unknown), a small wire wind-up figure (origin unknown), and immediately in front,  Dr. Johnson’s Potpourri of some 4000 of the most Entertaining and Historically Stimulating English Words (a gift, but I am uncertain from whom.) 

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