“They’re gonna love you,” she told me. They don’t even know me. And neither do you! I went to surrender my Wisconsin drivers license and license plate this week – and with it, a piece of my heart. Transitions are always hard, and this symbolic gesture is a resounding hammer on the final nail in…
Pocket Rocks – My Friend, Jill
If Jill and I had known each other when we were 9-10 years old, we either would have been mortal enemies or inseparable friends — we're too similar for anything in between. We met in PT school and had a mutual respect for one another (although she claims she tried harder to be my friend…
This old house
This old house was white when I met it, trimmed in a deep grey — fitting for its wizened years. No one could tell me its age for sure (and it's impolite to ask one's age, you know), but it's watched this corner lot for nearly a century now. This old house echoed and steamed…
Conversations on El Camino 