On a sunny day. To know that love is always enough. And then a nap.

Three years ago, over 60% of his body burned. He died and came back many times. We met two years ago. He asked me to tell his story. We are starting our meet and greet and press to launch our book. Seeing him now, you would never know his trauma, his pain. I know. My...

To feel the warmth of a fire. And watch huge flakes hit the window. I smell chili on the stove, almost ready to taste. I pet the Dachsunds asleep on my lap, the pyrs are outside of course. I listen to "Bubbles Up" on Bluetooth. Every sense is engaged though I don't...

We all want to go home. Still the students come to learn, something. The class is connected, synced around the world, recorded for working students to review later, and yet a few show up onsite. For the faithful, it should be interesting. For the professor it must be...

And no place Wolfgang, Wolf, would rather be. Mom always said, "Dachshunds are the best small dog." I am my mother's daughter. Not all my dogs follow me to every room, to every chair. But my lap is never empty. At the computer when I write or wherever I read or watch...

No matter the effort. No matter the time given to duty. No matter the drain on long lived energy. Moments of pause in my canyon make me wonder, Who lives like this? Humbly, and gratefully, I take note. I do.

Over twenty years ago, Riley and I made a few historic stops to get to our new home in Montana. My friends called him a compass as he was always pointed toward AJ. We drove cross country in my red Jeep Wagoneer-Kilobit the cat in a cage on the passenger seat and Riley...

Warm in January. Montana's quick change artistry. One section in the closet is not enough. There are at least two in winter: one for frigid and one for cold. The same for the coat rack: furry hood or single puffy. Today means...

It was minus fifty Two weeks later it was fifty. Now it's back to freezing. This bird has a warm heart in the coldest season. Holding its gobble until spring. Then they are my alarm clock.

And Nala is undaunted. From the warmth of the couch, she bounds up and outside to bark at the sunrise. Benny decides to join me in bed, cuddling closer and closer, warmer and warmer.