YIAYIA’S BLESSING
What would she say on her deathbed?
What would she say on her deathbed?
I once asked my 85-year-old mother if she had any regrets. Only one, she said.
It’s gay pride month. Lots of parades. I attended my first while visiting my twin granddaughters in Albuquerque.
I met a Brood X cicada who spoke English. She agreed to an interview with The Devil’s Gift.
I broke out for breakfast last week. I was double-vaxed and rarin’ to go. My double-vaxed friend was too. We were inmates released from prison—sentence served, doors flung open.
My first book, Let Love Arise, outsold the Bible.
In case you didn’t know (or hadn’t noticed), I am a master of divinity.
I’m not sure labels such as fundamentalist, theist, atheist, deist, pantheist, animist, environmentalist, secularist, or humanist are helpful.
My post last Sunday prompted some subscribers to unsubscribe. Only two, but not just any two.
Jesus is dead, I said in my Easter Sunday blog post. A reader disagreed.
Thanks to Old Scratch I’ll be posting a reflection on something I find remarkable in and around my world most every Sunday morning.
Read more about the devil’s role in my life in “This Little Light of Mine” under Let Love Arise in the menu bar.
Last night I had the strangest dream. I was watching the presidential debate between the venerable president and his cantankerous challenger.
I don’t like interruptions. Last week my work was interrupted by dogs.
A friend asked me: Are you an atheist? Someone told me you were.
I’ve got happy feet. I’m walking on sunshine.
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