drmstream[writing]

My great grand­fa­ther John W. Rogers rests under this lawn some­where.  He died in Jan­u­ary 1920 in Lit­tle Rock.  His wife Mag­gie had died 15 years ear­lier.  His daugh­ter Hort­ense and his mother-in-law Hen­ri­etta had died in the plague of 1918.  His son Louis and his daugh­ter Mar­garet were raised in a fos­ter home.   […]

This I know from hard-tested expe­ri­ence. In rela­tion­ships that went bad, the expe­ri­ence of smell was painful at the end. Stress and anx­i­ety makes odor more rank and potent. When that odor is wrong, the wrong­ness of each moment was more pro­nounced. This love now is chem­i­cal and aligned: the scent of her, the buttery […]

via blog.hgtv.com This is such a clever and dis­tinc­tive mesh­ing of form and func­tion. Of course, it works as an object, but I’m hav­ing trou­ble see­ing the rest of the room. Posted via web from Dan McCarthy’s Stream

Regard­less of where you stand on the pro­posed health care leg­is­la­tion (if you can fig­ure it out!), the drama around Pres­i­dent Obama’s speech tonight was stir­ring. A young pres­i­dent with an ambi­tious agenda, stand­ing before a divided Con­gress, on national tele­vi­sion, lay­ing out the pur­pose and logic of his pro­posal. The stakes were high, the […]

via progressiveerausm.wikispaces.com The pho­tographs of Jacob Riis res­onate today as an almost apoc­a­lyp­tic fore­shad­ow­ing of how a time thought long lost can recy­cle. Posted via web from Dan McCarthy’s Stream

via ritarogers.com Posted via web from Dan McCarthy’s Stream

Over the course of the sum­mer, each morn­ing I’ve been home, I’ve sat on the porch in the early morn­ing. I’ll have a cup of cof­fee. The dogs sit nearby. I have two reg­u­lar spots where I sit, which offer two dif­fer­ent per­spec­tives. The one I use most often looks away from the house, to […]

My mother walked every day by the beach and in the sea grass and heather. Her dog ran in and out of the thick heather, chas­ing rab­bits and run­ning down scents that mixed with the bright smell of the ocean. The hori­zon runs long and low. To find dimen­sion and per­spec­tive on these walks, you need […]

One The rain­bow is gone now — just a mat­ter of min­utes, two sips of cof­fee. The light is gone also. At this hour, the sun sits low on the hori­zon and sneaks into the yard as it passes above the house and trees, which eclipse the lawn and lush growth below the house. The […]

I’m out in West­hamp­ton Beach for a cou­ple of days cel­e­brat­ing Tami’s birth­day. It’s a spe­cial place for us: we were mar­ried on this beach, our youngest son was born here and we’ve lived here for stretches off and on. The weather has been gor­geous, the kids are hav­ing a blast with friends and we’ve […]