My Buddy

A Horse Tale

I'm jealous. A friend of mine just bought a horse. I've wanted a horse ever since I was a little girl - just like every single other little girl I've ever known or read about. Little girls - and big girls, too - are notoriously horse crazy.

I bought a horse once. It's not a pretty story.

Back in the 70's, my (now ex-) husband and I owned a farm in Door County, Wisconsin. Eighty acres. An old farm house. A barn. An ancient but still standing log cabin. Maple woods. An apple orchard. Fields of alfalfa. Perfect for a horse. Read more about My Buddy

Musings on Media

Two things from last week: (1) Heard a report on the state of the film industry claiming that the domestic market for U.S. films is only 20%, and the foreign market demands 3D and CGI. (2) Saw Hobbit2 with my new understanding of why Peter Jackson turned a classic fairy tale structure into an action movie. Read more about Musings on Media

The Lake House

It's been about 40 years since my parents bought the Lake House.

My maternal grandparents had retired to a double-wide on land attached to the Hiawatha Beach Resort, owned and operated by members of my grandfather's family, just north of Walker, Minnesota, on Leech Lake. My mother wanted to be near them, so when my parents went looking for retirement property of their own, they found the Lake House. Read more about The Lake House

Oh! The Feasts!

"We never eat that."
"I know. Let's get two."

Has it been two years since our last Thanksgiving shopping spree? Since the last time we stopped in front of the warm 'n' serve rolls display and decided that, you never know, somebody might want one or three. Read more about Oh! The Feasts!

Casablanca

I watched Casablanca again last night. There are moments in which I know I have failed as a mother. One of those moments came a couple of years ago when my daughter informed me that she had never seen Casablanca. I ordered it on the spot and designated a movie night. Sad to say, I don't think she was impressed. I don't understand why. Read more about Casablanca

Kissing

Memories from old letters. Here's one from David, a boy I met at Cornell in New York, at a Luther League Convention, 54 years ago. We spent the entire weekend making out in the bushes. My, that boy could kiss.

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Kevin

It was a sunny day in the year 2000 when I drove down to the Federal Detention Center at Seatac to pick up my old friend Kevin. He was getting out of prison, where he had been for helping friends water pot plants. No weapons, acts of violence, or priors of any kind had been involved. There were just an awful lot of tiny little root systems in the baby beds plus a nice collection of mature plants that added up to a mandatory minimum sentence of 10 years. He was 40 years old when he was arrested on January 13, 1992. Read more about Kevin