Billy Weed, by Harry Holdorf
What with the recent state-by-state recreational pot legalizations, I thought I’d look up my buddy Billy Weed from fifty years ago, and see what he’s thinking these days. I found him retired, living in a drafty old farmhouse in western Tennessee, enjoying feeding the...
The Value of Rough Journaling, by Harry Holdorf
Declaring himself a commodity trader, dabbling in sentimental feelings, he would up and say to someone: “Do you feel the majesty of a carrot plant? The bright tubular orange, the intricately green tiny filigreed top, the blue hue, over the dancing broken top leaves,...
The Maunder Minimum, by Harry Holdorf
It’s been such a struggle for me to admit to the possibility that the last century’s horrendous global unnatural inhuman activity may serve a higher purpose. For a life-long Green Environmentalist such as myself, it’s a lot of crow to eat: to think that the dude...
The Great Polar Vortex, by Harry Holdorf
If you were to graph your life, at some point your expectations would intersect with your abilities: such a point should provide one with some degree of comfort; sort of like when the dog has taken your easy chair, and you’re all right with that. Two line graphs on...
Winter, by Harry Holdorf
Wikipedia does a good job describing winter’s date variations: everyone agrees the season is three months long. Most Northern Hemispherians do winter as December, January, February, centered not on the December 21st Winter Solstice, but about 3 ½ weeks later, due to a...
A splattering of stuff I’ve learned, by Harry Holdorf
I learned that small southeastern Nebraskan towns, which the river moved away from, and the railroad failed to run through, often shrivel up and die. I learned that hard work is excellent, that amazing family farms will last forever, that there’s not quite enough rain...
pre-new-year’s resolutions, by Harry Holdorf
First, a multiple choice question: Life is like: 1. A rock; 2. A river; 3. A piece of paper; 4. A fire; 5. A movie. Correct answer: #4, Life is like a fire, requiring ignition, a certain level of combustion, in order to be more than just a pile of sticks. Waiting for...
Goobie, by Harry Holdorf
I’m upset about our dog, Goobie, 12-year-old tri-colored beagle. Close member of the family: only second-generation child. His rear end went out two years ago, Halloween, in Beatrice. We’d dressed him up in a Buzzy Bee outfit, which fit him perfectly, for the...
Cold Mountain, by Harry Holdorf
Each of us must admit that either we are killing the earth, and have no intention of stopping, or that we care, and are environmentalists, and want to help save the earth; there is no middle ground. Nicole Kidman’s Civil War movie Cold Mountain (sung by Alison Krauss,...
Dorothy, by Harry Holdorf
Dorothy felt things weren’t quite right, but she also knew they were as good as they were going to get; she’d just have to go with it. The snow had begun to fall several hours earlier, jogging her memories about snowy holidays as a child, how magical they were. She...