Your Brain's Pattern
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This week I took our cat Beatrice to the SPCA to have her spayed. After waiting in line for half an hour amongst dogs, cats, and people of every description, I finally made it to the counter ( Read more... )

After my fathers funeral last month, Hannah helped the family go through his house and get things organized. In one dresser drawer she found some miscellaneous papers. Included in them was the first and possibly only letter I ever wrote home from college. It was written about a week or two after I arrived on campus at the University of Illinois ( Read more... )

The trancelike state I was in was so enveloping I missed the fact that Jim was still talking ( Read more... )

“You don’t have a spare tire ( Read more... )

The following is a cautionary tale ( Read more... )

I left the eight track playing and quietly, oh so quietly, pulled the hood release then opened the door. If I could manage to affect a repair while Jim slept I could not only get us back on the road but I could avoid the burden of his accusations for the remainder of the trip. Once out, I pushed the door just closed enough to turn off the dome ( Read more... )

My earliest recollection of Jim Hunt is in a kindergarten age Sunday school class, the Sunbeams. I was sitting quietly at a peewee size table trying to pay attention while Jim and George Parker were jumping on chairs with plastic bowls on their heads and felt bible figures flying in all directions. The teacher was a middle-aged woman who was ( Read more... )

The quiet lasted a few more minutes then Jim pulled the car off to the side of the road ( Read more... )

Funny, I have no recollection of my conversation with my parents. Did I tell them I was going, did I ask, did I beg? I honestly don’t remember. I can’t imagine that either parent would have approved of the sudden trip with my old friend Jim. Two different run ins with the law resulting from Jim Hunt schemes during my last year in Florida were ( Read more... )