February 2012
1 post
Dad's Big Day
It was in May. I was three and my family was at Rich’s house. Rich was one of those guys who built anything he wanted. His house was big. I was little so this may not have actually been the case. His entire garage was used for building things. As a child I watched him lathe chair legs, table saw things into existence and weld with his mask down while I tried to look at the light for as...
September 2011
1 post
My Earliest Memories
I don’t remember anything about being born. In fact, the only thing I can remember remotely before the age of three (we’ll get to that age later) is sitting on my butt playing a Thomas-the-Train-Engine toy and I’m not even sure I didn’t make that memory up. But I know a few things about my origins.
My Great Great Grandfather and Grandmother (My Dad’s Mom’s...
March 2011
1 post
There are things
There are things I hope to be able to say one day, but until I gather courage toward myself, they will stay away, frightened of whatever it is that keeps them there, cowering. I’m getting better, I’m sure.