He shoves his hand in his pockets and toes a patch of creeping thistle with his shoe. The Lakota family remains hopeful for the arrival of their first-born son. The mother rests her hand on her stomach. She has recently battled an illness and says she doubts her boy will wait much longer to arrive.
BOOKS I actually thought about something “devotional” and / or inspirational for the New Year. But I was not devoted and / or inspired to write it. So, I give you books! Books make great companions. What a great way to hang out with make believe people, or past presidents for that matter. I ran…
Please take my hand. I’d like to lead you to the literary place I’ve just now found. We will be traveling to Chapter 1, page 4 of “Theodore Roosevelt and His Time,” from the Yale Chronicles of America series, published in 1912. Young master Roosevelt has just described being bullied by two boys his age…
But he didn’t bow his head like a heap of folks do when they’re saying the blessing. He just looked up and smiled. And he said, “Lord, I hope you having as nice a Christmas up there with your angels as we’re having down here…
…I absorbed the basic Calvinistic idea that the material world, like the material body, was colonized with eeeeviil. Most importantly, I was hard wired for eeeeviill.
What you won’t know, however, is that I don’t actually KNOW these people, at least in the traditional sense. You see, I follow blogs…lots of them.
Take East of Eden by John Steinbeck, for example. Now that’s a book written in blood. Who of us hasn’t felt an acute sense of displacement?
Before you start thinking the things I know you already are, stop and breathe…It’s almost as crazy as it sounds, but we’ll leave that part aside for now. Deep breath, open mind, positive thoughts…..and GO.
I slammed the lid down and ran as fast as I could to tell Grandpa. I don’t know how I expected him to react, but he immediately headed to the hen house and grabbed a hoe on the way.
One summer day my penchant for fantasizing about orphan protagonists, my bull-headedness and images of cartoon haystacks all came together into one knock-down, drag-out argument with my mother.