Note 30: The power of a question
Note #29
Note #28
When I was a kid, every year around this time, Mom and Dad would work hard (and, it seemed to me, happily), shaking the winter out of the house. 
For 30 years or so, on a succession of refrigerators, I kept a copy of a Mary Oliver poem. The Summer Day Who made the world? Who made the swan, and the…
I'm choosing not to renew some of my magazine subscriptions. I feel a little sheepish admitting that. (Will it earn me a "poor conduct" mark on my…
I think this is the seventh draft I've started since the last Urban Cabin newsletter. Consider this sort of the catchall that some people write around…
My neighborhood had its annual Christmas kickoff last night. The high school band marched for about three blocks, just long enough for the "here we…
Last Saturday morning, I looked out my window at breakfast and saw people in the street, runners and walkers in the annual community 5K run and 1-mile…
I was sitting at the dining table writing Saturday night when I sensed the cat rushing behind me and heard an odd sound. I looked over my shoulder. She…
I'm trying to remember the first thing I read by Brian Doyle. It wasn't "Joyas Voladoras," his astonishing piece on hummingbirds and hearts, though that…
I hope y'all don't mind something from the Drafts folder. Apparently this was written the first week of December 2015 in the first urban cabin, that…