The yellow birdhouse

Around 5-ish, summer’s sweetness calls me uphill after a day’s work outdoors and one last peek at the bees. Now, to cook dinner—cheese ravioli with venison marinara sauce and lettuce salad from our raised bed. “Food! Glorious food!” sings in my mind. The words and...

Remembering the good ol’ days

My brothers reminded me the other day of some of our good times back when we were just kids in the fifties. Both of my brothers rode bikes delivering newspapers all over our city every day. The name of the paper was the Chatham Daily News. They would just happen to be...

To capture a swarm of bees

I shook the kitchen rugs by the back steps. Next, I’d make coleslaw and put chicken and potatoes in the oven for company. All was well on another beautiful, Michigan Saturday. Then my husband shouted from down the hill, hands cupped to his mouth. “Your bees are on the...

Overcoming anger

As I write this, I reflect that today was my kung fu teacher’s birthday. He passed away two years ago. As a teenager, I began studying martial arts and was heavily invested in them until my mid-twenties. I eventually achieved the rank of instructor (sifu, as it is...

A brief history of my love for American history

I fell in love with American history my junior year in high school. New to Warren Lincoln High in September 1965, Mr. Harvey leaned his tall figure against the lectern and expounded on the points he’d written on the chalkboard. An average student who preferred...

Creation of an obsessed genealogist

During my wife Cindie’s senior year in high school, Denver Leinonen assigned the students in his American history class an assignment to create their own family tree. Cindie’s grandfather, Harold Walton, was the keeper of the family records and memorabilia. He...