It’s tougher than you might think, being retired and trying to find a second wind as some kind of creative writer — an ambition I call, after 41 years as a newspaper reporter and editor, “Making It All Up.” For one thing, it seems to require discipline, which is a bit of shock to …
It was another tough day at the office for Cooper, with John moving room to room with his books and computers and that much younger short-haired pointer Sara visiting all afternoon. I caught my usually watchful dreamranch pal resting his eyes after an early dinner tonight. Previously on dreamranch: The no-so-bookish club.
I was down in the dumps for a while but then realized I was reading only about Trump, Custer and the newspaper business. My spirits are lifting now. I know there is no saving of the newspaper business as I knew it, but I remain hopeful about journalism and journalists. I foresee Trump following in …
Front coming in and tonight’s walk looked like an Ingmar Bergman film, even with the inartfully named Fendler bladderpods coloring the way, but I refuse to be gloomy. Coop and I got in a little exercise in and around our meditative rest stops. Cooper sniffs the air. I take pictures. At least we stretched our …
Old Cabezon suggests a new canvas every night. I wish it also would reveal a plot or two.
April morning, after the storm. Birds here.
One big photo op.
I couldn’t take Bernie Sanders and Hillary Clinton beating up on each other in Brooklyn, and I’ll have to wait for Mike Coleman’s story on Gov. Susana Martinez speaking at the GOP gala in Manhattan, so I went outside this evening to take a look around.
Today: First rain since a trace on Feb. 23. And here is a cautionary post from @jfleck on Twitter.
dream ranch 