Category Archives: stories, vignettes and dreams

what a bloody waste of time (a vignette)

(A reprise; I wrote this a number of  years ago, but I can’t quite place it in time.)

Our son seemed to have been born with a predisposition to love grandparents. I don’t know how he came by it; could there have been a genetic cause, hardwired somehow into his wee neural net, passed down from his biological forebears?  Did it come from the books we’d read him as an infant and toddler?  My mind flips through the long lists of titles and book covers, but I can’t find any particular ones that might account for this.  It’s a mystery to me.
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the gift (a vignette)

Over the course of our lives, we all must have received gifts that overwhelmed us with their thoughtfulness, suitability, and timeliness.  One I received a couple years ago from Mr. wd qualified in the first two ways, but as to the third, please consider the implications of its irony as you read about what may end up being my favorite present ever.

Over a decade ago I sustained some pretty severe brain damage during knee surgery, although none of the surgical team would ever even admit to anything having gone awry.  When I woke up from the anesthetic, among other horrors, I discovered that I’d lost all sense of time, basic arithmetic skills, boatloads of words, people’s names, and more annoying things like cognitive abilities. I.e.: I’d become the proverbial box of rocks.
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Margaret and Charlie (a vignette)

(a reprise from another time)

We lived in an apple orchard for a time, in a funky old house used for the ranch hands, i.e., me and mr. wd.  Dozens and dozens of apple trees surrounded the house, and in the spring upon every breeze rode the soft sweet perfume of their blossoms, a gentle, clean scent tinged with the tiniest bit of cinnamon that sometimes caused you to pause and close your eyes and breathe in; to sniff their fragrance into your quivering nose, perhaps hoping to commit it to memory; to listen to the ecstatic buzzing of the bees so hungrily diving into their centers to suck their sweet nectar and getting pollen on their little feet, which they’d spread to other blossoms on other trees and cause there to be apples
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Albert the Blacksmith

a vignette (a reprise as a possible antidote to the current global zeitgeist)

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From Island Bliss to Urban Hell: a vignette

(I’d figured you might like a bit of a break from the  horrors in the current zeitgeist.  Here’s hoping you might enjoy a bit of a trip back in time when life was a bit simpler, or at least more…comprehensible.)

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Now Horse, Cut That Out! (a vignette)

(i’d written this some time ago, but thought i’d re-publish it as a bit of an antidote to the many grisly realities of the day.  hope you like it.  if ya don’t, please stay after class and wash the blackboards…)


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Hopi snake dance impressions

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