“if he’s into the bog, we must drag him out. If the trolls have got him, we must ring the bells.” Peer gynt, ibsen The biting November wind, the steaming frost, the brilliant blasting sun rising slices through the naked black oaks. S. is sitting on a cushion by the fire. A sense of self and ph ...

after a long day and a rich experience of life working, finally dinner was ready around 11:00 p.m. (and i had a lovely hungryman t.v. dinner, fried chicken; which will kill you if you eat it too often, in the freezer. i could have had it in a jiffy.) just for my favorite friends... i, with my las ...

in the catskills where rip van winkle slept for forty odd years and ichabod crane saw the headless horseman even stranger events than that took place in castalia where eighty giant oak trees lined both sides of the long driveway leading to the gatehouse. above the crystal clear lake the mansion with ...

the work on al bonk's pottery studio was finished. before the fall rains the roof rafters and beams were placed and a quick layer of plywood and tyvek would keep the water out. flagstone now covered the shale floor. one elegant arch of stone formed the exterior doorway. the other led to the k ...

i have to be brief. somebody should tar and feather the whole world leadership, right now; and send them to the moon. almost all of my life the news has been about conservation and diminishing pollution. maybe a lot has been done. but it's not enough. to the leaders, the power possessors, the r ...