I took a class on Whitman, Dickinson, Keats and Longfellow in college. It was team-taught by two department stars, Dr. Kiefer and Rodney Jones, one a natty dresser with a gorgeous head of curly hair, the other an acclaimed poet, a stereotypical professor in appearance, wry sense of humor and laconic delivery. While I vividly... Continue Reading →
This is a story I'm not supposed to write until it's happy.
My affection for Merideth Kaye Clark is well documented; her performance of Joni Mitchell's album "Blue," in its precise instrumentation and note-for-note interpretation that somehow flies on its own wings was an absolute joy to behold. I had the good fortune of interviewing her a couple of years ago, and found her warmth and enthusiasm... Continue Reading →
On the way into the hospital for a routine visit, I saw a perfect depiction of the entirety of life; an older man and woman pushing someone in a wheelchair who appeared to be the woman's mother chatting as they passed a young woman heavily pregnant, waiting for her partner so they could take the... Continue Reading →
I've had an exceptional summer. Probably the best since becoming an adult. I've gotten to see my daughter graduate, have all my kids together for a celebration, and now my daughter is staying with us while she job hunts. It's been a great garden year, with plentiful roses and calla lilies, a surprising raspberry crop,... Continue Reading →
Meg Currell 