When In Moab

I hate being manipulated. Scratch that. I hate it when someone tries to manipulate me. I’m decent at sniffing it out; I get an uncomfy feeling in my belly and like a bloodhound that’s treed a fox, there‚Äôs an arooing signal that goes off in me. Sometimes I get stuck questioning myself about it. Like,Continue reading “When In Moab”

Cheers, To Me

Uh oh, this is what I feared; a blank mind. I need to have something to write about. Right? But shouldn’t this be a good thing, a time when all my inner voices have settled down and are finally taking a nice, long siesta? I recall a phone call with a good friend years ago,Continue reading “Cheers, To Me”