Yesterday, Ginger, Cherry, and I took part in an “urban hike” through our neighborhood of Old West Durham to learn our way around a bit more and to learn some of the history of our neighborhood. John Schelp, the president of our neighborhood association, led the hike and dispersed the information. He did an amazing…

I was one of the first to the farmer’s marketthis morning, determined to buy tomatoplants before my day caught up with me. I was looking for heirlooms – seeds passeddown from grower to grower, generationto generation, like stories worth repeating. Most have names like Mortgage Lifter or Dad’sOrange, but between the Black Cherry andthe Cherokee…

We have a fair number of pieces of furniture in our house that have come from those stores that provide the experience of allowing me to assemble the furniture once we get the box home. The furniture is usually made in Indonesia or Thailand, comes with instructions that are illustration than illumination, and involve the…

I’ve never really gotten foot washing. When I was a youth minister in Texas, we had a foot washing service one Maundy Thursday and it was solemn and thoughtful and meaningful and, well, what I can say is I got more out of washing than being washed. Then again, I’m not one for having my…

I realize my posts have leaned heavily towards the poetic, over the past several days in particular. Yes, it is National Poetry Month, but that’s not the reason. Part of the reason is it’s easily eleven-thirty before I even begin to write at night and I am finding it increasingly challenging to stay up long…

sit long enough in the darkof the theater, and the credits willroll down far enough to name man on corner who was only on camera for amoment, or perhaps a line,moving the tale from here to there there was one in my story today he stood in the dark on ninth streetwaiting for the light…

We stood in a circlein the sunshine on thepatio where we had wavedpalm fronds barely an hourbefore; now we were sharingbread and wine, baskingin the brilliant spring shine,our solemn ritual exposed,on purpose, made public,taken outdoors, alive;our ministers in stolesand sunglasses. The future’s so sacred,we gotta wear shades. Peace,Milton

Time like an ever-rolling streambears all its sons away;They fly forgotten as a dreamdies at the opening day.(Isaac Watts) Let’s go Red Sox! Peace,Milton P. S. — and of course, Opening Day has been postponed due to inclement weather; after all, it is April in Boston.

I have great news: my friend, Nathan Brown, won the 2009 Oklahoma Book Award for Poetry with his latest book, Two Tables Over. I know. The sentence begs a couple of questions: They have poets in Oklahoma? They give them awards? The answer to both questions is yes. Poetry does come out of Oklahoma, and…

I dug a grave today. It was a first for me. The call came early this morning from church friends Tracy and Robin saying their beloved beagle, Violet, was going to be put to sleep. Ginger was up and out of the house in minutes. About a half hour later she called and asked me…