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  1. The house on Crenshaw Street, Pt. 2

    Our first visit to the old house was primarily to get an overview of the place. I knew immediately that there was one room that I would need to spend some time in. The library. The shelves were filled mostly with novels, going back decades. Many appeared to be first additions. There were also stacks of newer paperbacks. It was obvious the old woman was into mysteries. A hospital bed covered by a colorful handmade quilt sat before a large window that overlooked a private patio and backyard. ...
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  2. The house on Crenshaw Street

    I had driven by it numerous times, but only in the last few years did it look neglected. It was an enormous, old, red brick house built at a time when houses were architecturally designed, sparing no expense. It sat on a huge piece of property in a middle class neighborhood. It looked out of place.

    One day my office got a call asking us if we would be interested in buying it. I was less interested in owning it than I was in seeing what it was like on the inside. So, when I picked ...
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  3. The man with one leg

    Yesterday, two of my sweethearts (my hubby and soon-to-be 2 year old, Nik) and I were out running errands after a breakfast of blueberry (or booberry, as Nik says) pancakes and bacon. As we were walking from the Target parking lot into the store, we saw a man who had only one leg. This may not be unusual, but the fact he wore no prosthesis was. So, he hopped instead of walking. Actually, he had a lot of spring to his step. This hopping caught the attention of our young son. I'm not even sure he ...
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  4. The old oak tree

    It was dead as long as I can remember, this old oak tree. It stood alone in the pasture, in a field of grass and the occasional clump of willow bushes. It was not unusual to see a bald eagle sitting in her top branches, looking toward the earth or the nearby lake.
    Beneath her, in the early summer, grew small, wild strawberries. These wild berries were sweeter than any domesticated ones you could buy or grow.
    Year after year the tree stood tall, unchanged and unharmed by time or ...
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  5. My friend

    Not just any friend. He was my best friend while growing up. There was always a secret I kept from him, however. I felt so much shame about being gay, I was terrified he would find out and reject me. His friendship meant everything to me. He came from a loving family and mine was exactly the opposite. I needed his friendship so much.I don't think I ever told him I loved him, but he knew. Best friends know that kind of thing. When we started college, we only got to see each other a few times ...
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