Sparky roosted in the old dairy barn built at the sloping end of the driveway, perching serenely on the apex of the roof, pointing his tiny crowned head south and crying out at sunset in plaintive hope for a mate.

To leave sizeable chunks of our daily routines and commitments behind and trust that they’ll be there when we need to call them up again and move on with our lives…

It’s not difficult to make a book by hand; it’s just a process with a few moving parts and the need for space to let the steps of the process sprawl and evolve naturally.

I plunged headfirst into a well of lethargy the likes of which I’ve never known.

The weather will be a primary framework determining how I arrange my day’s activities.

I’d challenge anyone to live here and not be pulled in all seven directions plus a few more, to tend to the unfinished business that is our land-based existence.

I’ve encountered quite a wide and colorful swath of human nature these past four decades and it shows no sign of slowing down.

Timing is everything if you want to see stuff around here.

Our home life back then had many moving parts and as children, we just presumed it was up to the taller humans in the room to take care of keeping those parts aligned, easy to find and working properly.

The minute we step outside, there’s a project in every direction, and each one is jockeying for that position at the top of the list.

We’re just a couple of lifelong learners paying close attention to a well-cultivated creativity as we keep an eye on the home budget’s bottom line.

For the first time in more days than I’d care to count, I felt safe and just about normal.

It’s natural to begin the internal comparative dialogue, weighing the pros and cons of a somewhat locked-down existence with being somewhat released back into the wild.

When the to-do list crashes and burns like it did last week, I’m grateful for my punting skills.

In my mind, I’m sifting through a few possibilities for after-lunch activity but so far, no one is voting heavily in any particular direction.

For now, I’m getting away with wearing pretty much the same pants, shirt and sweater on Mondays without anyone asking if that’s the only outfit I own.

Today’s agenda is as scrambled as my eggs were this morning.

I’m sure I’ll be just awful at re-engaging.

After the year we’ve had, individually and in common, this spring feels deeply and forever different from the others.

You have my undivided attention. Here, take it.