"I wish someone would ask me about my regrets," one of my friends recently said to me. "What are your regrets?" I asked. She told me, but those are hers to tell, not mine. No worries though because I have plenty of regrets to talk about, most in the flavor of "Love is never having to say you're sorry" = bullshit. Or another friend told me, William Burroughs used to joke/not joke that every day he lived was another day full of regrets. Here's some of mine: I don't regret adopt

This is kind of understandable although not a happy thing: we still have, or at least had, Iowa St. to the west of us only now Iowa is...

One of my favorite books, Pema Chodron’s When Things Fall Apart, names this week. Two of our three young adult children lost their jobs,...

Very early this morning at dark’o’thirty, I was rudely awakened with the news: my email sent everyone in my address book a message that I...

The world of travel farce is narrow and treacherous. What wouldn’t shake me much in ordinary life level me here. My burrowing animal...