Inflammation of the phalanges

We'll call it an incident. I suppose we could call it aging. Or stupidity. But we're going to go with an incident. It started with that damned cardboard. I've always known my fingers were bulls-eyes for arthritis. My childhood is pocked with memories of my mom's engorged knuckles and all the digital calisthenics employed to... Continue Reading →

Angry Birds

I had a face-off with a crane this morning. Mama or Papa I wasn't sure, but I'm going with PaPa, for this was a form of road rage I was vaguely familiar with. On the way home from town, my road was blocked by a startlingly beautiful young family of Sandhills. High-stepping in circles on... Continue Reading →

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