Crayon-colored Cards

February 16, 2016.Reading time 5 minutes.

I hate greeting cards. As a boy I considered them merely speed bumps to the present. I never cared what Aunt Eunice had to say and could barely read her loopy cursive anyway. But mom made me read them, or at least look at them long enough to give the impression that I was reading when I was actually planning my assault on the wrapping paper. I know this won’t be popular at the Hallmark store but I think store-bought greeting cards are contributing to the death of the American family as much as Snapchat, emojis, and TV at dinnertime. No matter what the pre-printed writing actually says, what it really means is, “I didn’t have time to think about you so I spent $3.99 instead.”

Winston’s Holes

January 20, 2016.Reading time 5 minutes.

Winston’s been digging again. The dog often takes geological surveys in the yard but this time, he isn’t going for depth but quantity. He doesn’t spend a ton of time outside, but is very particular about the groundcover. Lately, it seems, he has a problem with grass.

I came home to find the pockmarked surface and asked him about it. Of course, I had to master my emotions first because he is extremely sensitive to loud things. He turned his head the other way very nonchalantly as I approached him while he was laying in his berm.

“Winston,” I demanded sternly to show him who’s boss “Why are you digging again?” Read More