If we do not write,
we will forget
and be
forgotten.

[I'm reminded of my late maternal grandfather who would keep rectangles of cardboard torn from cigarette cartons in his pocket and use them to note down any thing of interest. He was a meticulous record-keeper, and each family member had their own file in the curious grey cabinet I'd spend hours scratching through as a child. Birth records, school results, newspaper clippings, First Aid certificates, letters; that's how I met my mother's brothers who had passed on before I was born.]

Food, friends, family;
A full house
makes for a big home.

The drive was atavistic.

Hunter-gatherer sensibilities trumped a millennium’s worth of progress as we engaged in a quiet war to secure, and deftly, the most well-vantaged space for our cars.

Parking lots bring out the moer in people.

And the ugly too. Read more