“I feel things deeply. I just don’t rush about it.”
✦ Selected Works ✦
The social posts. Observations that knew exactly how long they needed to be.

My ball has joined the Deschutes. Dad waded in after it with complete determination while I watched from the shore, tail… — read more

The Deschutes has claimed another tennis ball. Dad waded in with the confidence of someone who has never met river… — read more

Gus just collected his morning cookie and wandered off to contemplate the universe. Meanwhile, reports of unidentified… — read more

UFOs explain so much about squirrels. The erratic fence running. The impossible physics of bird feeder raids. The way… — read more

The mathematics of Friday morning make themselves known long before the freezer door opens — something in the air… — read more

Paper streamers carry the faint tang of ink, and something sweet lingers in the kitchen air. Flour, perhaps butter. Six… — read more

The number changes but the morning cookie remains constant. Six years of walking to the same desk, receiving the same… — read more

Six years of breakfast management and they still haven’t learned to anticipate the schedule. The confetti arrived… — read more

The sound of the Chuckit being lifted from its hook — a brief scrape against the wall, then silence. This sound has… — read more

The Chuckit lives in the mud room. I have verified this twice since breakfast. The rumor about Hollinshead has reached… — read more

The rumors have reached my ears and my position is clear — the Chuckit launcher remains unaccounted for and this… — read more

The Force flows strongest through those who understand the true path leads directly to the cookie jar. Today I shall… — read more