Underfoot, the lawn was a white carpet of spring beauties. Overhead, brightly colored kites danced to the silent rhythm of the wind. It was a gusty, blustery wind that whistled through the trees. Children’s laughter rose above the birdsongs. Four-year-old Caroline grinned and shrieked with joy as she flew her first kite. At six, brother Dane was an old hand; he flew his kite higher. “Watch the trees!” I yelled, remembering Dane’s first outing. His ‘favorite’ kite, decorated with a…..
My son called the other day. “Hey, are you building anything for Dane’s birthday?” Grandson Dane will be seven next month. “No, I have a bookshelf on my to-do list, but not anytime soon. Why?” I asked. “Katie wants to get some wall shelves for his knickknacks. Do you suppose you could make it?” “That should be no problem. What does she want?” I replied. It wasn’t an unreasonable request. I have built lots of things for the grandkids. “We…..
Picture the Buffalo, two tons of bearded beast standing six feet tall, with a large head, massive shoulders, and oddly narrow hindquarters – dusty, dirty, hairy, and smelly. More agile than a horse, it can run the 100 yd dash in six seconds (35mph). Go ahead, picture them in your mind – I’ll wait. Okay let me guess; you imagined hundreds roaming across the western prairie, dark brown against the golden grass, and in the background beautiful snow-capped mountains. Did I get…..
A while back, my son got a new vehicle. It is excellent, with clean lines and well equipped. With room for seven, it has three rows of seats, each with a drop-down TV, like a jetliner. A multiple-disk DVD player provides clear, crisp audio and video. Yes, it is sharp. After inspecting it, I nodded in admiration and told him how much I liked the media center. “I wish I’d thought of that.” I said, “Wait, I did!” It was…..
“I knew better,” I muttered, flipping the sun visor down. When I was in college, I lived in West Terre Haute. Every morning, I drove east into the sunrise, and every evening I drove west into the sunset. I promised myself that I would live east of my work. Hah, that didn’t last. So here I was, heading into a dazzling sunset; the scattered clouds aflame with reds and yellows. Yes, it was beautiful, but it hurt my eyes. To…..
Imagine if you will, an ordinary yellow star – humdrum, prosaic, even boring, little different from the millions, nay billions, of such stars populating our universe. This modest star is located on the fringe of a vast swirling galaxy. There, in the backwaters of its galaxy, it is far enough from the galactic center to avoid excess high energy radiation and interstellar collisions, yet close enough to include significant metals. It is in the Galactic Habitable Zone – a necessity…..
There I was, absently-mindedly perusing social media, and checking my email. Suddenly one caught my eye. It asked a simple question: Who is your favorite fictional couple, and why? The question from Goodreads seemed straight forward, so I began to write. This was too easy, drill sergeant. My favorite fictional couple? Olivia and Mike, of course (Olivia’s Story: Protector of the Realm). Why are they my favorite? To paraphrase John Lennon – Love is what happens while you are busy…..
Brilliant wildflowers carpeted the fields, interrupted by scattered woods ablaze with dogwood and redbud. The aroma of tilled soil wafted through the window. It was spring on the Illinois Prairie, and April 9, 1927, was a lovely day. Somewhere between Joliet and LaPorte, an old Model T puttered eastward – well it wasn’t that old, they’d only been made since ’08. In the car, two young schoolteachers returned from Joliet. Ethel snuggled closer to Harold; he smiled and patted her…..
I grabbed my design file, rolled up the plan sheet, and ran up the stairs. I was fresh out of Rose and barely twenty-two. Walking into the big office, my heart raced. There was my boss, Jim, an imposing man who was a couple of years younger than Dad. Like Dad, Jim was a farm raised Purdue grad. Throughout the go-go 60’s, he had designed rural water systems. Thousands of folks in southern Indiana now have ‘city water’ thanks to…..
Slipping through the window, Jim dropped to the floor; breathlessly he listened for his pursuer. The watchman had spotted him climbing the fence, and gave chase. Dashing through the dim moonlight, Jim had evaded the guard. Now he waited. Outside of the window footsteps approached, stopped, and then retreated. “That was close,” Jim muttered, surveying the room. It was a mess; books piled on the floor, drawers emptied, wall safe open. “Someone’s already searched this room,” he whispered. Ignoring the…..