Lawn Mowing and the Fictive Dream

Cathy claims it’s time we had a riding lawn mower. I’ve been hesitant. Moving away from my walk-behind feels like a concession to the advancing years. Damn it, if I could use that walk-behind last week, I can use it again this week. Cathy says, “What if something happens to you? My knee won’t let…

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Writers Helping Writers: The Virtual Book Tour

Cathy and I went to Home Depot twice this weekend, hoping to get some answers to questions we had about a riding lawnmower we were interested in buying—simple questions, really, like, “How do you change the oil?” On our first attempt, we asked for assistance that never came, so we gave up and left. Today,…

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Inciting Episodes and Significant Actions

Cathy and I went to the zoo yesterday. On the way, we went to Menards to exchange some landscape lights that had stopped working. Then we stopped at McDonald’s so Cathy could get a sweet tea. We parked in the lot at the zoo and then walked to the entrance and scanned our tickets. Easy…

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To See What You Couldn’t See Then

Another Easter Sunday has come, and, again, I’m thinking of my mother. I’ve written often of my years between third grade and high school when we lived in Oak Forest, a southern suburb of Chicago. We traveled back to our downstate farm some weekends, and on holidays, and in the summers. We were always on…

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