One characteristic of all newlyweds or seasoned house hunters is their insistence upon stainless steel appliances, granite countertops, and stone floors. The marketing genius who came up with the idea of going sockless must be the same one who brainwashed homebuyers into thinking they need a kitchen outfitted with “upgrades”…
For years I longed for a beautiful leather chair. It was my opinion that every writer’s study should have bookshelves teeming with dusty classics, a fireplace to give the room a cozy feel, and a luxurious leather chair to complete the look. Mind you, my so-called study was only a…
Joseph L. Block (courtesy of Roger LeLievre) Years ago when the Great Lakes teemed with freighters the sound of a foghorn breaking the morning stillness was a familiar one. The Soo Locks would be thick with ships heading upbound for Lake Superior and Duluth or downbound towards the St. Lawrence…
I was walking down the road this morning and noticed the fields were full of vegetation going to seed. I thought about the seasonal cycles and how nature knows when it’s time to wrap up one and begin the next. The fields and forests have no calendars or smartphones to…
One morning a long time ago I was chatting on the telephone with my brother when the conversation unexpectedly turned to something he referred to as the “Thursday Night Bellyache” aka TNB for short. I asked if it was a new malady raging across the country. Was it something mentioned…
As September winds blow into October, woodsheds should be well-stocked and stacked to the rafters. If this winter is anything like the last one, wood-burning stoves, furnaces, and fireplaces will get a daily workout trying to keep the cold at bay. Although I don’t heat my home with wood, one…
Two women, both loners who had rejected a safe, predictable lifestyle and turned their back on tradition, met one April afternoon in 2018 and talked for an hour. Although strangers, they soon discovered they had much in common. At the age of 50, each had made a major decision in…
My brother was driving his old white Dodge pick-up real slow and I knew why. Malcolm was in the bed, and my brother was trying to miss all the ruts in the lane leading to the open field behind his house. He didn’t want to jostle the dog. My heart…
Uncle Steve and the rototiller (1972) Uncle Steve’s garden stretched before me like Adam’s Eden. Every kind of edible plant that could survive Michigan’s Upper Peninsula weather poked its head through the rich brown soil. Bright red tomatoes hung from thick green vines. Hiding underneath enormous elephant leaves, zucchini roamed…
