Father’s Day – Rolling Thunder

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. 

cartoon drawing of man pushing snowblower

10 Yards More

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?