And unseasonably deep and cold Illinois, too. While we've been visiting family this last month, it has been more like December than November. I haven't gotten this much cold and snow all at once since my family left Wisconsin when I was 11. It has been a nice walk down nostalgia lane, and great fun... Continue Reading →
So today (Wednesday the 3rd of this brave new world of 2018) I had a mental healthcare appointment to keep (no emergencies -- in fact, I've been feeling better than I have for the past 3 or 4 years). I first set up these appointments when the family car was working, but because I am... Continue Reading →
This little trip down memory lane was brought on by me responding to a tweet... ...which led to an invitation... https://twitter.com/RickySteele1/status/909848868090712064 ...and an explanation. https://twitter.com/Tao23/status/909853776831553536 https://twitter.com/Tao23/status/909855275007594496 https://twitter.com/Tao23/status/909855510429618176 There's a little more to the story. My mother ruefully remembers the first time she helped me hunt nightcrawlers, indeed in the dark, on hands and knees, on... Continue Reading →
In the best of Trump voters, there's deep and intense dissatisfaction. A feeling that anything must be better than the politics of our memory, whether that memory is the few years of the 18 year old first time voter or the several decades of the elder Trump voter. In many, I think, there's an... Continue Reading →
Here's our 5 year old proudly displaying the first fish he ever caught, just a couple of days ago. Itty-bitty little bluegill -- and he went on to catch four more somewhat larger ones while I caught a decent sunfish, a crappie, and a smallmouth bass. He was THRILLED to have caught more fish... Continue Reading →
Here's a little bit of microfiction for you to enjoy. As happens often in fiction, it's based on a real place and a real experience. I'll leave you to decide which parts are fiction and which are not. The Crayfish Copyright 2015 S.A. Barton The eighteen-wheelers roar by above; the bridge over... Continue Reading →
The first time I posted this, I managed to delete the story somehow. Or, worse still, not actually write it. So let's try this again! Still Time S.A. Barton Seventy aimless years: before the cure for aging, he'd never have become anyone.