As I toil away here at Three Geese Farm, doing all the hobby farm chores, I constantly look for labor-saving devices. I mentioned buying a fuel transfer pump, so I don’t have to balance precariously on the tractor to pour five gallons of diesel into the tank, whose cap sits on the top of the engine cover. The plan is to avoid another shoulder surgery or, likely worse, falling off the tractor and being covered in diesel fuel. With the transfer pump, I leave the can on the ground, hook the hose inside the tank, and push a button.
Most of these gadgets pop up on my Facebook feed. That app reads...
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I keep looking out the window.
It doesn’t matter where I am in this house. I gaze out the windows in whatever room I’m in. My primary closet has a window that looks out onto the front porch and the huge front yard beyond. That sounds weird, but the road is more than 100 yards away. Nobody can see me. It’s a lovely view. Our sunroom, which includes the part that holds my book-surrounded cubby, has five large picture windows. Every few minutes, I look outside.
I am looking for Ozzie the Terrorist Kitty.
That is the name he was given when we adopted him last August. The spelling is different,...
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I have been muddling my way through an interesting but fairly dense book titled Invisible Rulers, by Renée DiResta. To quote the book jacket, she “reveals how a virtual rumor mill of niche propagandists increasingly shapes public opinion.” She makes her case convincingly.
Trouble is, once that point has been made, according to my Kindle, I am only one-third of the way through the book, and I am losing interest. I don’t know if that says something about the author’s ability to hold my interest or about my inability to pay attention over the long term. Maybe both? Regardless, I intend...
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I took an actual walk down memory lane last Sunday morning, while our “fancy car,” a 2021 Toyota 4-Runner, was being detailed for the first time since we bought it used two-and-a-half years ago. Usually, I run it through a car wash that has hard-working folks at the front to spray and scrub it before it runs through the automated wash, then a woman at the end who quickly towels it off. I take advantage of the free vacuum service after that.
However, we learned days earlier that our new puppy Daisy May, whom we acquired from an animal shelter a few hours away, gets carsick easily. She is just...
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O Canada!
Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all of us command.
With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
The True North strong and free!
From far and wide,
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
God keep our land glorious and free!
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
One of my earliest childhood memories is visiting the Eastern Township of Quebec, where my great-grandmother, a tiny woman we called MéMé, lived near Sherbrooke. MéMé spoke only French. Among the visiting cousins, the theory was that she knew English but refused...
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GILMER, TEXAS — A young boy, maybe 6 years old, is pulling a rusty red wagon with two rabbits in a cage. He is wearing a straw hat that nearly swallows his face, a Western shirt with images of a bronc rider, blue jeans, and cowboy boots. He is adorable. The little cowpoke is peering intently into a cage filled with white geese. He is surrounded by folks looking at cages and pens filled with all kinds of poultry, waterfowl, goats, rabbits, and dogs. This is the first of three annual East Texas Poultry Trades Day events held at the Yamboree Livestock Pavilion in Gilmer. Exhibitors have filled three...
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But your flag decal won’t get you into Heaven anymore
They’re already overcrowded from your dirty little war
Now Jesus don’t like killin’, no matter what the reason’s for
And your flag decal won’t get you into Heaven anymore
— John Prine
Beloved troubadour John Prine wrote Your Flag Decal Won’t Get You Into Heaven Anymore in 1969, at the height of the Vietnam War. At a live concert I listened to on Spotify, he said the song’s idea came to him while he was a mail carrier in Chicago. Back then, Reader’s Digest was highly popular. Prine said mail carriers hated the magazine...
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There is not much I find heartening these days, what with a needless war, a president whose Easter “greeting” was to use the F-bomb in a demented post, gasoline prices skyrocketing, and a feeling of dread that is hard to shake. One of my first thoughts each morning, besides “Man, I really need to pee,” is “What fresh hell awaits us this morning?” As I told a friend the other day, when I think it could not get any worse, it does. I do count my many blessings — good health and a loving family are highest on the list.
What I find truly special lately is the Artemis II mission, which...
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PHILADELPHIA — The City of Brotherly Love also seems to be the City of Light-Fingered Gloves. Walk into almost any pharmacy, and you'll see expensive items locked up. Customers must press a button on each display to summon an employee with a key to retrieve, for example, a bottle of Tylenol. My Beautiful Mystery Companion and I noticed this on a recent visit to an academic conference where we both gave presentations.
We had just left the famous Reading Terminal Market, one of the country’s oldest and largest public markets. It’s a great place to stroll and enjoy locally sourced produce,...
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I cast my first ballot here in Gregg County at the age of 18 in November 1973. It was an off-year election. I do not recall what was on that ballot, but research indicates there were five proposed amendments to the much-amended Texas Constitution. There does not appear to have been any local races decided that November. I voted simply because I could.
In 1972, I was too young to vote, meaning I missed out on casting a ballot in the presidential election. Not that it would have made a difference, since Richard Nixon overwhelmingly defeated Sen. George McGovern in Texas and nearly everywhere else....
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