David Kaynor died on the 1st of June and six days later I took Elizabeth's violin from its case and in its place returned a fiddle. Less than 24 hours ago I did the unthinkable and broke my heart, and... Read more →


This is what an eleven year old Prius cannot do: 65 mph uphill in the rain with about four times the load it can reasonably be expected to bear. All three vehicles had about four times the load they can... Read more →


I think we were in Donegal because that's where I got my jacket and I only recall spending that much money in one place. I know we were looking for them, both the linens and the jackets, and there they... Read more →


The original timestamp on The Red Umbrella (and the light) is August 13, 2020 which has caused a dip into the well of cognitive dissonance this morning. The post was written forty-eight hours after I'd put my affairs in order... Read more →


There are not many photographs of Elizabeth and me after she was eight. There wasn't anyone to take them for the most part and I'm not big on selfies. However, there is this and it tells all you need to... Read more →


Kitty is counting her granddaughter's fingers, can you see? It seems we've stopped counting fingers and toes as a ritual. We assume everything is where it's meant to be; at least for those of us living and breathing in the... Read more →


I drove north to Starksboro on September 9 with no end date in sight. That's not me; I want concrete plans, or at least concrete foundations. I can improvise on that. The only concrete things I had were the drive... Read more →