Moving In
It’s a feature well known that when you move into a new place, for every box you carry in and unpack, you drink a beer. Okay, maybe that was true in my college days–or was that just the price extracted Read More …
That drink with each new place to level me & put me in touch with a new spot on the map
It’s a feature well known that when you move into a new place, for every box you carry in and unpack, you drink a beer. Okay, maybe that was true in my college days–or was that just the price extracted Read More …
It’s the afternoon of the Saturday before the time change, and it’s a calm, cool day, with a bright sun that warms us only a little bit as we sit at a picnic table outside NN Burger in Tappahannock. The Read More …
Sometimes you need a break…a real Saturday morning evoking your childhood–complete with a bowl of Lucky Charms, sleeping in, and watching cartoons. Okay, so I didn’t do any of those things last Saturday, but I did walk over to the Read More …
An incredibly tragic accident last week took a legendary airplane, her crew, and her passengers into a fiery landing up in Connecticut. Though I didn’t know the pilots of the Boeing B-17 Nine-O-Nine, many of my friends did–and we all Read More …
We’re always up for a charitable way to mix philanthropy and beer (or wine), so when my friend Lori put it out there that she planned to hike 28.something crazy miles to raise funds for the Make-A-Wish Foundation, we asked, Read More …
Actually, the title of the story is purposefully misleading: I did not drink any beer at King Bao on East Colonial in Orlando last week–mostly because they don’t serve any alcohol. That should in no way stop you from enjoying Read More …
North of Madrid lie mountains. The city reminds me of Denver, in its position on a high plain, backed up by large-scale rocks beckoning you out of the bustle and into the hills. My love had once lived in Madrid, Read More …
The drive over the tracks took us up and around the mountains…just getting out of our friends’ house near the shadows of La Maroma, the grand mountain in the Sierras de Tejeda. The lady turns purple in the sunset, but Read More …
It’s not the beach of our dreams, or even our memories. But it’s a strip of sand, and a breakwall, then another strip of sand, and another breakwall, and on ’til the channel that runs into the creek behind my Read More …
“C’mon over on Friday,” said the neighbor. “We should have enough in the traps by then.” It hadn’t been a brilliant year for the crabs running on the Neck, but we’d have a couple dozen by the time the weekend Read More …