Dear Readers,
I am working on a collection of short stories entitled That’s Spilled Milk over the Dam which is a phrase my mother used at the end of any family argument. Many of these stories have been published and some are looking for a home. They tend to reflect my ironic and humorous view of life. I plan to add a new story about every two weeks.
Christmas in Tanzania
Some years ago, I was a volunteer at an orphanage at the base of Kilimanjaro for six weeks. I tutored students in English to improve their chances of earning a university scholarship. Several mornings a week, before class, I walked through the village to the Catholic...
Holy Friday-Kashmir
Some years ago, when I was not young but foolish, I spent a week on a houseboat on Dal Lake at the base of the Himalayas in Kashmir. It was January. Not exactly the height of the tourist season. Because of a lack of flat land, ten thousand people live on houseboats....
A Solitary Adventure in Good Company: 1962
I grew up in a small college town of vintage buildings and attitudes lying somnolent next to the Connecticut River on the west and a ridge of seemingly primeval forest to the east. In the fall of my sophomore year of High School, a long string of Indian summer days...