DEAR MOTHER NATURE: Okay, you know I love you, and I'll be happy to sleep with you for an eternity or two when the time comes, but criminy craps, Sweetpea, did you really have to have a hissy with the snow? Really? Okay. I'm better now. You're still my girl.
Wednesday, May 15, 2013
I'M REMEMBERING A NONAGENARIAN patient of mine. He was a delightful man I visited regularly at his home, where he still lived well and independently. He'd smoked roll-your-owns, drunk blockade whiskey, and indulged in Caligula-mocking excesses all his life.
"My doctors told me years ago that I had to quit all that stuff or it would kill me," he said. "If you like, I can show you where they're all buried."
Monday, May 13, 2013
Monday, May 6, 2013
TODAY IN 'ADVENTURES IN DUCT TAPE,' yet another reason why you should never hire me as your handyman. I love my front porch screen door, and its fragile, sagging, multi-painted-over framework of well-weathered wood. Yes, I could replace it, but you don't discard an old friend for having a bad half-century.