I like old river towns. There are lots of curves. Roads follow the river, and rivers curve. Wichita is like that.

There was a time when hotels played a big role in my life. Now? Not so much.

Heading north to Wichita. I wonder if any of my relatives every drove cattle this way. Probably not.

I have a small quandary, about the size of a bread box.

I spent most of the day yesterday in a state of anticipation.

We’ve had swallows since the first year the stone walls of our house went up;

Yard work is nearly bearable when the weather is cool, and it was cool yesterday.

Well, this feels nice. It’s 63 outside this morning. I actually discovered this around 3 a.m. when my internal clock kicked me awake.

They patched the potholes on my street yesterday. A big front-end loader waddled up from city hall, which is just down the road a bit, its bucket full of asphalt.

Dad joke time.

My body has decided enough is enough. My left gluteous medius, and I’ll leave it to you to look it up, has decided to spasm.

I love technology. It’s the wonder of it that appeals to me.

I took delivery of my new mattress yesterday. The fee was $90 if they brought it into the house, $45 if they dropped it at the door. They dropped it at the door.

I was walking and watching my shadow yesterday. As I did, I could fool myself into believing it was the shadow of young man…

I found myself sitting alone by an empty chair last night as the final evening of the Third Ever Marathon Songwriters Festivals got underway in the dance court of the Gage Hotel.

I’m hanging with a big group of friends listening to music in Marathon, which seems a long way to go to hear folks play who live almost down the street from where I live, but sometimes you just have to get out of the house, and it’s a nice break when you do.

While I’ve got you metaphysically cornered, I’m going to tell you a crazy uncle story.

There I was yesterday evening, sitting in my easy chair, after eating a dinner of friend zucchini and venison sausage, feeling all manly, when I looked down and realized my tee shirt was inside out.

Yesterday it was dishwasher’s, today it’s another domestic chore, laundry and its distant cousin, ironing.