September 2017–I knew it was there somewhere. Deep in my second floor storage closet in the Noble Hotel was a rectangular, blue, Tupperware bin of tools. There was an…
Category: The Inner Workings
Short, potentially scary, insights as to what goes on in my brain.
I walk with my boots tied loosely, laces sloppy within the confines of my gaiters. No blisters, just loose friction between the socks and the lining of the mid-weight…
I lean on the rusty pipe rail fence, watching a dance of equine and person. Within the confines of the sandy arena Des methodically moves a small black flag up…
I knew there would be some choice words for the cars in front of us whenever we next stopped, but the truth is I am glad we were going twenty…
Editor’s Note: This was written in late May as I tried to settle into a pandemic routine at NOLS’ Three Peaks Ranch. Andy met me at the Steele House…
The phone rang. I looked down at my desktop and saw a 307 number–Wyoming–but not one I recognized. I picked it up. Three weeks earlier in mid-March, NOLS had…
Editor’s Note: a compilation of various things I have written in the past mixed with new material, this is posted here today in honor of what would have been my…
NOLS courses are hard. My jaw thrusts downward and outward while my hands cup the sides of my mouth. “Rrreeddd tent, close your vestibule” I yell from my tent door…
Editor’s Note: Not my usual style of writing, but this grew out of an assignment for a class I am taking so I thought I would post it here…
Editor’s Note: I have had this languishing in a folder of documents for a while, mostly as written below. The Corona sure has thrown a wrench into the plans of…
I keep a running list of ideas for blog posts. At the top of it lie three quotes which have struck me hard over the past months. They bring tears, desire…
I started off with two strikes against me. Water is not my element and Spanish is not my language. Luckily Maija and Fiona were kind enough to take spots nearby…
“How do you process thoughts and ideas?” is a question I often ask in the course of doing my job. The quiet, internally processing instructor can be enigmatic, confusing, or…
For twenty-three and a half years I have done what I wanted to do. I have made my choices and chose, for the most part, wisely (matters of the heart…