Stories With Heart And Soul 
Saturday afternoon we hurried out of the house at 1:30 to watch The Blue Angels and Thunderbirds fly over Atlanta. They are the Navy’s highly skilled acrobatic flying teams. I caught site of the last plane rocketing into the tree line. The sound was like smooth thunder, very impressive and majestic. We walked down the
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Christmas is a pile of stresses with trauma looming on list-filled December days. The mall, really what could be worse? Clearly, lots could be worse, but getting side-checked and jostled on a Saturday afternoon is not my idea of a good time. Seeing clothing marked down to the bone and hanging akimbo makes me worry.
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My friend Betsy prays for prosperity every day. She asked me if I was trying to prosper through writing. “Yes,” shot out of my mouth like a reflex, because I knew she was talking about money. I didn’t want to sound like a dilettante. The truth is I don’t think about writing and money together.
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I met an angel on a sidewalk in Harlem, NY. She’s a perfect memory of the ideal human experience. Let me explain why I love this woman. Some of us lick the edges of life. Others live with a sore patch, constantly rubbing the wound. Either keeping it fresh or making it ooze. Most of
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Beth Bolgla has a unique and wonderful vision for living. She’s present, clear-eyed, and curious, with the kind of positive attitude that seems both innate and thoughtfully considered. She’s is also optimistic about things that most people aren’t. Beth visited our home a few years ago to discuss featuring her ceramics at Catherine’s Table, my
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