Off-the-cuff invitations are red flags. The “oh you should come…”, then the “it’ll be fun…” screams run away, even though I know that some of my better days have been…
Category: The Inner Workings
Short, potentially scary, insights as to what goes on in my brain.
My hand reached blindly into the predawn darkness, feeling for one of the two dangling chains on the bedside light. Catching one, I slid my hand down until it ran…
Editor’s Note: Back in the early days of the pandemic (April/May 2020) I took a writing class with Kati Standefer where she provided the above prompt. Earlier I documented the…
Friday, October 13th, 2023—Today I was on the other side of the news. Today, after twenty-some years of working for NOLS, I engaged very differently in a process that had…
Editor’s note: I haven’t done a lot of recreational writing as of late. This past winter most of my writing has been technical, professional, writing. In the process a co-creator…
iFrames are not supported on this page. Explore the map above or click here to go to the ArcGIS Online hosted version. In December of 2010, I launched jaredspaulding.com. Memories…
[Editor’s Note: Again, I have reached back into my archives to dust off an old piece of writing, this one from April of 2017. A lot has changed in my…
My neighbors got a “new” truck last summer. The white, extended cab, Ram 2500 with an eight foot bed sits and idles its diesel engine on the street; there is…
Years of outdoor education have helped build a habit of referencing things by cardinal directions and their ordinal “in-betweens”. “Use the entrance on the south door” I might say to…
Editor’s Note: This piece evolved from some prompts I had in a writing class I took two years ago from author Katherine Standefer. Pieces of the current news coverage have…
Devil’s Slide rises almost 800 feet above my boyhood hamlet of Stark. As a child the deciduous forest that stretched northward across the railroad tracks from our house felt immense.…
Author’s Note: The November 7th of 2021 marks the 25th anniversary of my father’s unexpected passing. He was 46. In the 23rd year after his death I actively engaged with…
My tears take the long way to the pillow. They trace a line over my cheek bone and down to my chin, being slowed by week-old stubble, before depositing themselves…
The pandemic reinforced my love of tea and tacos. Here is the beginning and the end to 2021’s daily grind: ~ the pot: with Andy home it is a two…