The front porch of our little, off-white stucco house in Medora, N.D., was a magical place to be on hot, muggy summer evenings. / I was about 5 years old, and it was father-son time. I’d lean back, feel the strength in his chest and the arm around me, enjoy the cracking of peanuts in one of his big hands or the aroma of tobacco as he puffed at his pipe from time to time.
Change Happens – I’m thinking about transitions on this first day of the New Year. I’ve learned change is constant. Some changes are bigger and more impactful than others. We move on. It’s all good.
Snow is a given in the upper Midwest. We deal with it. Winter here brings one of the most satisfying opportunities to be a good neighbor. I learned it from my dad, and now I try to pass it – Why not go just 10 yards more?
From Pink Floyd to the Black Rebel Motorcycle Club, there have been a lot of colors along the way.
To Calgary and back, and my signature Olympic moment came in Circle, Mont.
“Mart probably fell into the toilet, and Dad’s making a list of ways to get him out.” That punch line, originally delivered by my older sister when we were just […]