Oswego
Entries 580
Page 16 of 24
“Elderly old?” I don’t think so. Not yet. in Daydreaming on the Porch
As I approach my 70th birthday, I sometimes wonder what it’s like to be old. I mean as in “elderly old” – white hair, slow reflexes, diminishing sense perceptions, pain popping up all over the p...
Painting the sky at sunset in Daydreaming on the Porch
Iwas looking at the weather data to find the time of today’s sunset, although there will be no majestic display this evening. It’s leaden gray, cold and damp out. A classic winter day. So I st...
An elegy to the old-fashioned dime store in Daydreaming on the Porch
I called them dime stores when I was a kid. The one down the street from me in a small strip shopping center was a TG&Y 5 10 & 25 cent Store. When I was 9 and had my 25 cent weekly allow...
Angelic voices uplift me in these times of peril in Daydreaming on the Porch
One thing about this seemingly endless and surreal quarantining during the pandemic for those of us over 65 such as myself, is that we are spending much more time indoors doing the things we’d or...
Tethered to the Internet, in a good way of course in Daydreaming on the Porch
In my childhood, starting around age 8 or 9, the World Book Encyclopedia was my gateway to the world. I must’ve read every article there was in that 20-volume set on countries of the world, all ...
Accoustic terrorism in the streets in Daydreaming on the Porch
Acoustic terrorism in the streets Your noisy, sound and brain wave pummeling car stereo pounds out violence from your face. You sit there saying, “Notice me. I am nothing.” A poem I wrote...
Camellias make winter disappear in Daydreaming on the Porch
It’s so amazing to me that our parks are full of blooming flowers in the heart of winter, in January. That’s because camellias bloom only in late Fall and Winter. It’s getting down to around fr...
The single state in life in Daydreaming on the Porch
Discovering vocation does not mean scrambling toward some prize just beyond my reach but accepting the treasure of true self I already possess. Vocation does not come from a voice ‘out there’ cal...
Winter trees in Daydreaming on the Porch
This is the time of winter I look forward to here along the coast of South Carolina. Winters are generally very mild with the coldest weather occurring from late December to about the middle of...
A new dawn in Daydreaming on the Porch
After it became official that we had finally turned the corner in this country to a new era of hope after the terrible black cloud of the past four years had finally been blown away, I feel such ...
Thoughts on turning 70 in Daydreaming on the Porch
Levity, levity — Oswego’s almost 70. In just a few short weeks, the date on the calendar I’ve been thinking about a lot the past couple of years will roll around. My 70th birthday will arrive, ...
Healing our nation’s wounded soul in Daydreaming on the Porch
In light of the events of January 6 and the four nightmarish, dystopian years which preceded and directly led up to that horrific and shameful day in our history, I have read and re-read these tw...
Photographic visions during the pandemic in Daydreaming on the Porch
One thing I’ve learned during the pandemic about my passion for photography: I may be self-quarantining and I may not be able to travel or take day trips like I used to, but more than ever I’ve d...
Away from it all in Daydreaming on the Porch
But indeed, it is not so much for its beauty that the forest makes a claim upon men’s hearts, as for that subtle something, that quality of the air, that emanation from the old trees, that so won...
A former caregiver looks back in wonder and gratitude in Daydreaming on the Porch
This January 28 will mark one year since my mother passed away. I lived with her for ten years, taking care of all her needs until the end with the assistance of Hospice and five part-time careg...
Hope at last in Daydreaming on the Porch
For just as the harshest winter always gives way to the warm blush of spring, the season of our suffering will give way to a brighter tomorrow, where change becomes a catalyst for new growth and ...
Traveling across “The Loneliest Road in America” in Daydreaming on the Porch
There is a certain ten-year period in my life — 1984-1994 — that I will never forget, for so many reasons. I’ve written about that decade before and referred to it as a time of “wandering in th...
A story of enchantment and love in Daydreaming on the Porch
I remember 20 years ago when I started writing my first online journal and people began reading it and emailing me. I was so thrilled because it had been years since my newspaper column writing...
A Christmas like no other in Daydreaming on the Porch
It’s been a tragically awful year with the pandemic, economic catastrophe, and criminals in the White House. Who would ever imagine our “democracy” would take this kind of deep dive toward obliv...
Traveling back in time: 1960 in Daydreaming on the Porch
This entry has me time traveling back 60 years to the impossibly distant year 1960. Surprisingly, I have a lot of memories from that time in childhood when I was 9 years old. Part of the reason ...
An ode to the front porch in Daydreaming on the Porch
I cannot even imagine living in a house without a front porch, the bigger the better. And it should have at least a couple of rockers, a swing, ceiling fan and maybe some bright red flower boxes...
A quiet revelation, revisited in Daydreaming on the Porch
Of all the entries I wrote at Open Diary, the one I am re-posting below is the one I remember most. For some strange reason. It’s not my best entry. It’s not the most profound, but the whole expe...
Teach your children (and grandchildren) well in Daydreaming on the Porch
This past Sunday, I had a perfectly delightful walk at the state park It was a cool, early December afternoon, and the conditions were perfect for walking. I had my camera ready to take pictu...
The start of a new chapter in life in Daydreaming on the Porch
The year 1984 was another of those pivotal years in my younger life when I was trying to come to grips with the end of one career and way of life, and the hopeful beginning of a new life in just ...
November, then and now in Daydreaming on the Porch
I’ve started re-reading entries in a paper journal from a very special time in my life, 1979-1983. I was teaching for the first time and living in Columbia, South Carolina, having recovered onl...
