Even as I have a lot of thoughts and feelings about what is going on in our country today, I am aware that my best work may be to listen rather than try to speak. I have nor written for a couple of nights because I, like many of us, am exhausted and despairing. Tonight,…
I grew up eating scones in Africa because of the British colonial influence. For the most part, they came with afternoon tea–and they were pronounced like the word gone. I’m not sure what got lost in translation when they made it to this side of the ocean, but not only did we change the pronunciation…
I am going to be laying low for a couple of days because I am down to the wire to get my final edits done for my new book, The Color of Together: Mixed Metaphors of Connectedness, which will be published on October 13, 2020 by Light Messages Publishing. You can preorder it here. This…
I am preaching for our service this week. We recorded it on Thursday standing in front of our church vegetable garden rather than in the sanctuary, so not only do I have a manuscript of the sermon, I have a recording as well. The text is Exodus 16:9-21–the story of the manna in the wilderness….
A good biscuit is hard to make. I lived–and worked in restaurants–in Durham, North Carolina for five years before I dared to say I knew how to make a good biscuit, and I still know there are those who can make better biscuits than I can. Mike Hacker at Pie Pushers tops the list. That…
One of the benefits of living in Guilford is Bishop’s Orchards has fresh asparagus every May. I had never tasted fresh asparagus–I mean asparagus that was still growing this morning–until we moved here. I now eat asparagus in May and then wait for next year because I know how it really tastes. Something about asparagus…
The last two weeks, as Spring has finally come to Connecticut to stay, the lengthening light of the days has been matched by the growing weight of my depression. This time, thanks to the pandemic, it isn’t all to do with my mental illness but circumstances as well. I find that I crave being outside….
volunteer in new england we have to be gentle with our tomatoes let the air warm then the soil plant on memorial day while people down south are already making BLTs today Tom pointed to a little green plant “tomato” he said then “volunteer” from the latin: acting by free will choosing to show up…
permanent collection the pandemic has gone on long enough to get to “clean up the barn” and I unpacked the museum in a box waiting to be curated pictures from my father’s ordination wrapped in plastic since Mom’s funeral what do I do with a memory that’s not mine no one has missed it for…
everything never stops singing the tulips are down to their last chorus the apple blossoms are just coming in on the descant the bleeding hearts hum in the shade and the chive flowers translate melody to fragrance when they hit the hot skillet the endless blue sky sings of long ago and far away because…