Life is difficult. Intentionally so, I believe. Of all the promises we have in Christ, there is one that is rarely mentioned, seldom committed to memory and never preached on: In this life you will have problems.
Partially because of my work schedule and also because of the heat, my recent cooking efforts have been in what I can best describe as a slump.
On Wednesday I was watering the backyard lawn next to Pipi’s Pasture, and during one change of the hose, a pleasant moment, I noticed the cows that were lolling around in the shade — if they could chew their cud, they would have been — the robins “talking” as they busily picked away at the nearly-ripe chokecherries, and imagining that the grass and trees saying “thank you, thank you” for the water.
To listen to both his defenders and critics, Donald Trump represents the U.S. version of a new nationalism popping up around the world. I'm not so sure.
If you watched Donald Trump’s low-volume, slow-motion, NASCAR-on-yellow speech on foreign “policy,” you now understand the problem.
It’s just about time for the busy season that lasts about nine months and accounts for three-fourths of the year. It involves a huge investment by our community and always manages to bring with it a few bumps, dips and detours. Each of these seasons — my 18th here in Craig — produce their own particular memories and offer local residents a bevy of ammunition for both praise and critique.
“Falling: A Love Story,” this week’s featured novel is a love story but one with a twist. It is written by Jane Green, a former journalist of the U.K. and author of 18 novels — including this week’s, her newest — 16 of which have been New York Times bestsellers.
The Touchpoints Approach to child development presents a paradigm shift. It asks us to move from a linear model of development to a multidimensional one.
Summer is almost over and school is about to begin. Families might be asking themselves if it is time to enroll their child in preschool. Here are some ideas to ponder to help families make that decision.
The other day I met up with a friend — at the grocery store where it seems that most of us do our visiting — and we got to talking about how fast time is passing. She remarked that it seems like we all waited a long time for summer, and now it’s almost over. I agree. Already there are subtle signs that the season is about to change (and some not so subtle).
It’s interesting how we start doing things one way and continue doing it that way for years to come. Take the way I have always fried zucchini, for example.
I still remember the day I studied older children diving into a swimming pool, then perched on the pool’s edge, propelled my body out and down — and gave up belly flopping forever. Maybe you remember teaching the family dog to roll over, learning to roller skate on your own, or making your friends laugh with your first successful joke.
It was inevitable, I guess, that we’d finally get to the point in this presidential campaign when we’d be debating whether or not Donald Trump was advocating killing Hillary Clinton, which is a big step up from suggesting we make America great again by carrying some random protester out on a stretcher. For the record, I’m sure Trump wasn’t calling for an assassination. OK, I’m pretty sure, anyway. Lock Clinton up, yeah. Call her a devil, sure. Say she’s a monster, of course. Criminal, traitor, you can go down the list. But however absurd this 2016 campaign might be, it’s not a kill-Hill movie.
Stella is a medium-size, brown dog with a white nose and feet, a black stripe down her back, and a black tail with a white tip. She’s the leading character of this week’s picture book for kids.
The cold, foggy and forbidding Aleutian Islands sweep in a long arc outward from Alaska into the North Pacific. Early in World War II these islands pivoted as a strategic location for both the United States and the Japanese, but just as quickly the battles, like the islands, receded back into the foggy shroud of history. Just as difficult to know is the life of Lyle Nunnemaker who fought and died on the craggy outpost of Attu in May of 1943.