The Morning Habit

For some reason, I just thought of the words to an old Roy Clark song. I never picked cotton / But my mama did / And my brother did / And my sister did / And my daddy died young / Working in a coal mine. I relate a little because, before my grandfather stopped …

Lest the Brightness Fade …

It’s a world of opportunity. Unfortunately, it’s also a world of rationalization. I write best in the mornings. Most days I awaken brimming with ideas. Complications arise and slowly accumulate as the day makes its lonely way to sunset. By mid-afternoon, I’m bailing complications with a straw cowboy hat from a sinking rowboat. Also, time …