I could be handy, mending a fuse When your lights are gone. You can knit a sweater by the fireside, Sunday mornings go for a ride. Doing the garden, digging the weeds, Who could ask for more? Will you still need me, will you still feed me, When I’m sixty-four? The Beatles-1967 As a … More When I’m Sixty-Four
I returned to work on April 6th following a ten-month absence. I’d taken time off to receive treatment for multiple myeloma, a cancer affecting the plasma cells in my blood. I spent the fall and winter months recuperating from an immune suppressed condition, the result of an autologous stem cell transplant. I am the Postmaster … More El Gato del Correos
For the last several months, I’ve followed the open sea journey of Rich Wilson. He is the only American and the oldest entrant (58) in the Vendee Globe 2008. Some call the VG the Mt. Everest of sailboat racing. The competition goes around the world from France to France with Antarctica to starboard. It’s the … More Joie De Vivre
I’m a pre-dawn rambler, often rising before the sun. I roam through the house, trailed by my nocturnal buddy, Buckwheat, a domestic shorthair cat. She crows noisily until I complete the ritual of feeding and speaking to her with fawning sincerity. Then and only then, she allows me to brew coffee and sit at my … More Lobo
Sunday, I went to the clinic’s pharmacy. I received yet another prescription. I now have drugs to protect me against the chemo and drugs to protect me against the drugs protecting me against the chemo. Currently, my multi-colored pillbox houses seven varieties. Some are twice a day, one is four times a day. I also … More The Little Things
Good Blood, Bad Blood 