I hate rust. It triggers me. When I pull up behind a car at an intersection or while parking, and I see rust on the trunk lid, I involuntarily shudder. I’m a little queasy right now just thinking about it. Rust brings back memories of despair. The old days of putting...
Spring cleaning becomes a mission
Once a year, I try to get my act together. Enough is enough. The centre cannot hold. Status quo is just not sustainable and serious thoughts need to be thunk, profound depths need to be explored. Life changes must happen before it’s too late. Yes, I try to clean up...
Oh crap! Some prose about the old commode
It’s funny what photos remain when people are long gone. My late, older brother captured this moment in the life of my late father. It may seem normal now to have dozens of recent photos on your phone of seemingly random events, but will they still be on your phone 50...