Stone-Faced

In Cooperstown, NY, yesterday, on some unrelated to the writing agenda when Denise spotted the glum James Fenimore Cooper (1789-1851) sitting all stone-faced, seeming to ponder why everyone these days is more absorbed in talking no-hitters and stolen bases. His statue safeguards the grounds where his treasured Otsego Hall, the home his father built, once stood before it burned to the ground a few years after his passing. There was no parking so my charmer willingly hopped out to snap these photos while Ava and I looked on.

Torn And Frayed

Went to edit my latest and found out my daughter was already working on it.

The High and the Mighty

Blustery kite weather this afternoon and my charmers along with Ava’s grandfather had a lot of fun flying this butterfly and ladybug. The hand to my mouth is when the kites nearly collided in midair. Luckily my daughter is a skilled navigator and no harm was done. Though, on my own, I managed to slam the butterfly into the top of a tree—and amazingly pulled it down without damaging it. Thanks to Aunt Meta and Uncle Bob for sending the aerial fun.

Remembering Ron Scheer

Lynda Scheer​ asked me to write a final post for Ron​'s Buddies in the Saddle blog. A very deep honor for a friend I loved very much. I hope you can take a few moments to join me over there in remembering Ron.

The Gadgetless and Tired Assassin

My article, The Gadgetless and Tired Assassin: James Bond’s Short Stories, is live at Criminal Element.

Little Shutterbug

Ava was playing photographer today, and then her daddy snapped a picture of the little shutterbug.

My West: The Sandhills of Nebraska by Ron Scheer

My West: The Sandhills of Nebraska by Ron Scheer. (I enjoy hearing Ron talk about the land he loves so much.)