“A good traveler has no fixed plans and is not intent on arriving.” Lao Tzu I have multiple myeloma, a blood cancer of plasma cells. I’ve managed things well but the jinx of my chirpy posts about good cancer fortune had heard enough. Recently, the myeloma aimed its rheumy stinkeye my way … then blinked. My … More Riverwalk
Soon after the New Year, I walked the perimeter of a sandbar on the Columbia. It juts north from the Oregon shore in Hood River and is called “The Spit.” Kite board enthusiasts know it as the largest sandy launch site in the Mid-Columbia Basin. From March through October, surfers take off from here and … More Down by the Riverside
My wife and I just returned from 10 days in New England. We entered Acadia National Park, in Maine, the afternoon prior to the government shutdown. There, we hiked to the summit of Cadillac Mountain and walked along the shores of Sand Beach and Jordan Pond. On the second day we followed the Great Meadow … More Leaf Litter, the ER, and Wobbling
The summer has been busy with family visits to Hood River. First, my wife’s youngest sister, Linda, arrived. She and her husband have government jobs overseas. They hope to eventually retire here, close to us. Their latest posting, however, is in Pakistan and a farewell peek at our new home seemed appropriate before departing. Then, … More A Busy Summer
Here, in Oregon, at our new home in town, Mourning Doves have my attention. Their baritone voices resonate from perches in nearby trees and from the tops of phone poles along the street. These birds are wonderful fliers. They are fast, able to climb and dodge rapidly as they move from spot to spot announcing … More Mourning Doves
Up on Mt. Hood, my son is testing equipment and shooting video for Nimbus Independent. There, at elevations exceeding 7000 ft., the thermometer climbs to 50+ degrees. The sky is clear and blue. Skiing aficionados refer to this phenomenon as Juneuary: spring conditions in mid-winter. Down here, in the foothills, most days repeat the pattern of overcast … More The Certainty of Uncertainty
Recently, the cat who keeps me company at the Post Office, Curly, disappeared. She adopted our office as her home seven years ago. She spends her day sleeping in a chair atop a red, white, and blue blanket knitted for her by one of our customers. At night and when the office is closed, we … More The Cat Came Back
Good Blood, Bad Blood 