What we forget November first
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October Country . . . that country where it is always turning late in the year. That country where the hills are fog and the rivers are mist; where noons go quickly, dusks and twilights linger, and mid-nights stay. That country composed in the main of cellars, sub-cellars, coal-bins, closets, attics, and pantries faced away…
A love letter to libraries and aliens, for National Library Week.
Great design for “headspace”: inside are books, sheltered from the elements, for you to browse and borrow. http://www.stereotank.com/Little-Free-Library http://boingboing.net/2013/05/30/freestanding-street-library.html
I grew up watching Star Trek with my parents, and it played a particular role in bonding with my father. A 10th-grade dropout, a mechanic, a contractor and engineer with little regard for standards, measurements, or straight lines–nonetheless, my father was fascinated by the ideas in the show. Long after we’d watch a rerun of…
Cheryl lay in the dark of her room, in a heap of stuffed animals, thinking of her missing friend. The thought of him out there, alone, scared, maybe hunted, brought a mix of cold dread and hot tears back, and she fought them down again. She thought about the MISSING LOST CAT poster she had…
So it’s Father’s Day, and I’m feeling a little melancholy, which friends have picked up on. See, my dad had a case of bad timing, passing four years ago. Now, every Father’s Day ad takes me behind the curtain at Westmoreland Hospital to long hours sitting with dad’s comatose body, passing the time watching medicines…