DENTON, TEXAS — In a broiling heat that is likely our permanent summer reality, my Beautiful Mystery Companion and I wandered the campus of the University of North Texas, stopping first at the bookstore to check out the merchandise but leaving empty-handed. I really don’t need another T-shirt or hoodie, though I am tempted. After all, technically I am a student here, working on a certificate in archival management from the School of Information. I am just two courses away from finishing and hope to do so in the fall — though I am on the waitlist for a required class that might delay completing...
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I learned from a former reporter’s Facebook post that the Daily Sentinel, the Nacogdoches newspaper where I spent more than 15 years of my career, is moving, presumably to a smaller building. The building at 4920 Colonial Drive is more than twice as large as what is needed these days.
Emily Taravella’s well-written (as always) post said that past employees were invited to come take mementoes that would not make the move — plaques from the wall of honor being one example. (The wall of honor is what we called the journalism award plaques hung just outside the publisher’s office.) Emily...
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I have singlehandedly created a pair of Pavlov’s dogs. Instead of a metronome, Mollie the Maltese and the Great Gatsby come scurrying to be at my side whenever they hear the scraping of the breakfast nook chair. It means I am about to sit down to eat.
Ivan Petrovich Pavlov, 1849-1936, was a Russian physiologist who discovered dogs have an unconditioned response, meaning it’s involuntary, to salivate when they smell or see food. He then further conditioned the dogs to begin salivating when his metronome started marking time, because they received food afterward. This meant a conditioned stimulus,...
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The view outside my window has changed in the past few weeks. The late June storm that streaked through with 90 mph winds uprooted an oak tree just outside the backyard fence. The tree stood at the crest of the hill that leads down to Pancho’s Pond. Now, when I look out the window, the view is dominated by its root ball instead of the pond. Birds continue to flitter about its still-green branches. We are waiting on our tree guy to get caught up with folks who had trees land on their houses and buildings to come take this tree away, as well as a Bradford pear that split in the front pasture.
It...
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When I was a little kid, I recall having a toy lawnmower. At least I think so. The memory is fuzzy enough that at times I doubt its accuracy. It is possible one of my young friends in Allenstown, N.H. — Bruce Courtemanche or Peter Engel, to name a couple — actually had it and occasionally allowed me to play with it. Or it could have been one of my many cousins. But there is a toy lawnmower in my past, of this, I am sure.
My certainty stems from the flashback that hit me as I assembled a 13-inch electric mower with a rechargeable battery a few weeks ago. As mentioned previously, I am on the injured-reserve...
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This story has a happy ending. At the time, we had our doubts.
Last Saturday, my Beautiful Mystery Companion was on the tractor before 7:30 a.m. I am still on the disabled list when it comes to bushhogging and mowing because of shoulder surgery. When she finished mowing the side pasture and plopped down on the back patio to cool off, I went down to retrieve the tractor, which requires opening two gates — one to the side pasture, and another to the pasture where Pancho the Donkey resides.
Normally, Pancho obediently backs away when I shoo him off while opening the gate. Not this morning....
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More than half of all cats sleep between 12 and 18 hours a day and nearly 40% of cats sleep more than 18 hours per day. As they grow older, a majority of cats sleep for more hours each day than they did in their younger years.
— Sleep Foundation (sleepfoundation.org)
I recently spent several nights sleeping on the couch, though dozing might be a more accurate term. I was not in trouble with my spouse, at least not that I was aware of — which is not unusual, given my general cluelessness. In this case, however, major shoulder surgery left me in a sling and under doctor’s orders...
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Big Red, a 1965 Ford F100, joined the family in the spring of 2015. My Beautiful Mystery Companion announced she wanted a farm truck to drive to work, so we found Big Red on eBay. The truck was shipped from Iowa to Longview and unloaded at the top of the hill back when we lived in town. We took it for a spin around the neighborhood. I quickly realized that the lack of power steering or power brakes would make Big Red a death trap for my diminutive BMC, who rarely breaks 100 pounds even after scarfing down a cheeseburger.
A friend who has restored a couple of dozen vehicles came over to inspect...
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My Beautiful Mystery Companion and I married 12 years ago tomorrow — June 10 — on a warm, humid late afternoon at the bottom of a hill on her brother and sister-in-law’s place outside Hughes Springs. It was a beautiful setting for a simple ceremony, mainly family in attendance. Rosie the Wonder Dog (sadly now gone) served as ring bearer. She was our first rescue dog.
As time passes, so did our pets. We are now on our second generation of pups together — Mollie the Maltese, and the Great Gatsby, our cavapoo rescue dog with his teddy bear face. At nearly 7 years old, our cat Tater, aka Blubba...
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Dear Connor:
I bet you thought this night would never arrive — when you walked across the football field at Harmony High School to receive your high school diploma. For me, sitting in the stands with your beloved Aunt Hiss and cousin Abbie (my wife and daughter, respectively), it was just an eyeblink of time ago that I met you at Ms. Geneva’s house outside of Pittsburg. As she did every year when the grands (children, nieces and nephews) were young, Ms. Geneva was hosting Easter dinner with the requisite hunt afterward. You were 3 and sported a serious expression as you tried to keep up with...
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