July 26, 2016

The Number One bus.  I always knew I could get back home from downtown when I took The Number One. 

        When I was growing up in Chicago, my mother used to take us downtown and back on The Number One bus.  When I got a little older, I’d ride by myself to piano lessons or to have lunch with my father at his job.  Back then, life was simpler and safer, and parents allowed their children to ride the bus as early as 11 yea...

July 12, 2016

Poor little plant.  Your last few green leaves reaching out, begging for attention in the form of a few drops of water at least, knowing your fate could soon become brittle and brown like your botanical brothers hanging off the edge. Don’t give up.  You are a symbol of hope.