The Pineville High School football team had a respectable season up until the last game. They could not win the conference championship, but they could improve their standing in the conference by winning their last game of the season. The season always ended with a game against Middlesboro, a game that would be remembered throughout the coming year. It was as if the whole season could be rescued by winning the game against Middlesboro.

The big day was at hand when the Yellow Jackets of ...(click to continue reading)

Southern Louisiana, January, Twenty-ten: Since just a few days past New Years Day it seems that I can’t get warmed up. I heard many warnings on the radio to protect the plants, and it became wrap your water pipes with anything including newspapers, old tee-shirts, diapers or anything else that might insulate them from the cold. I heard things that I’d never have heard in January in Ohio where I lived before I moved to Louisiana. All this kind of thing would have been taken care of months earlier...(click to continue reading)

The mail had been delivered. I wondered what was here besides junk.  Now and then some interesting junk would appear among the mass of stuff.  I would like to know what part if it was worth looking at.  Items with large, bold print on the cover were manageable and some could be tossed without the bother of opening.  Other pieces needed to be opened to determine their fate.  I put the things I wanted to read on my magnifier, which is a closed circuit TV mounted above a zoom camera, with a movable...(click to continue reading)

We got us a dog at the pound.
He didn’t look much like a hound.
He likes to chase squirrels
Just as boys chase the girls,
And he loves to dig holes in the ground.

The dog from the pound we call Zeke.
You might think of him as a freak.
He’ll greet you with kisses
And in case he misses,
He’ll try again till he’s weak.

All right, enough.  Those lines are not poetry, even though they contain rhymes.  They are just Limericks.
I...(click to continue reading)

Like many a widower I tried to continue my normal activities in the community. I maintained my interest in the arts, in church and personal relationships as best I could. Though lonely for my mate, I was beginning to cope with a lifestyle alone in a house big enough for a family. I lived pretty much an independent lifestyle.

About a year after my wife’s death I began to notice that it was harder to read the newspaper. I needed brighter light to see things clearly. I passed the eye exam ...(click to continue reading)