Rising After a Fall

  Today as I left my house to go for a walk in the woods, I noticed the tiny buds on our magnolia tree and a few blossoms.   Spring is trying to happen, I thought, as I walked down the driveway, bundled in my fleece jacket and gloves.   As I walked along the trail, I saw a robin perched on a limb, its bright color a beautiful contrast to the brown, leafless trees. Spring will come, I thought. After every long, cold winter, spring always comes.   It … [Read more...]

And then there was the Playboy story

First of all, here's the update on Kelly and his whiskey. Mom felt guilty and called to tell him his moonshine was really vinegar. Oh, the disappointment. "So, why is it that when I tell someone a secret in this family, nobody keeps it a secret? But, you can all keep secrets from me," he said. His daughters pulled up my blogs to show just how many people were in on the secret about his fake Virginia moonshine. "So everybody that reads your blog knows too? Great. What are you … [Read more...]

More From the Homefront…

Last week, the news from my brother's house was the bootleg whiskey. Apparently, from Kelly's research, he believes the whiskey was aged in a barrel because charred oak barrels produce deeper colored whiskey. That explains the color that makes it look like, well, apple cider vinegar. I told Kelly's wife, Paula, that I could write a blog about Kelly every day because he is so entertaining. "Do you think he would care?" I asked. "How would he know?" She asked. "He doesn't read your … [Read more...]

My Mom, the Bootlegger

Last week before my mom flew home to Utah after spending nearly two weeks visiting me in Virginia, my brother called her and said, “Hey, before you come home, I want you to track me down some of that Virginia moonshine whiskey I’ve been learning about on TV.” “What moonshine whiskey?” she wanted to know. He explained that it was a hooch made in Virginia and sold in Mason jars. “Do you want me to end up in jail?” she asked. “They’d confiscate that at the airport and send me to jail. … [Read more...]

Trusting My Instincts

It’s home improvement time at our house. We hired a painter that our neighbor recommended. When I met him, he said, “I am Steve. I am painter.” I liked him immediately. He wasn’t a wishy-washy painter. He had opinions and ideas. “Where are you from?” I asked him. “Where you think?” He asked. “Somewhere in Eastern Europe,” I guessed. “I from Hungary. You know, Hungary in Europe. My English not so good but I work on it.” While meticulously painting the white trim in our … [Read more...]