The Mystery of the First Peckham in America, c. 1637

    February 26, 2016 Friday With a whole morning to fill at Turning Point as the world is asleep, Will busies himself: Yes, this lines up with what I found; I am focusing on the first three sentences written in the brief bio.  I was aware of the birth date, (and possibly the ship…

Thanksgiving – My Grandma Carlson

November 29, 1996  Friday Yesterday was Thanksgiving.  The day of turkey, football, and cherry pie (all in excess).  I had a good time. If the above is less than festive, well, it’s on purpose, or at least can’t helped.  Dad hadn’t gone with Mom, Nicole and I to the farm.  He was with his mom,…

Home for the Holidays Part I

written December 21, 2009   Of the two of us, at least one will have a white Christmas; the surrounding area is covered in a medium dusting, but freezing rain is approaching.  Tell me again about el tiempo en Florida… =) Last night Dad brought home a map of Afghanistan to learn where all of the craziness is…

Snow in August?

written August 10, 2012 Another brief message, now in the a.m., before meeting the visiting nuclear family for breakfast–at their Best Western hotel, no less! I received a call, two afternoons ago, that my arriving family was stranded in the web Shaw, the neighborhood just to the west with through streets at a premium.  Eventually…

“What I Know About My Culture, So Far”

written July 18, 2010   Fifteen of my sixteen family strands originated from the quaint icebox known as Sweden.  I did some online research recently, to discover that the best of early 19th-century times paradoxically brought about the very worst of times.  Peace, prosperity, and potatoes produced a lot more Swedes, who would later find,…

Incidentals

written June 4, 2016   Cornelius Cochran, besides having a rocking name, was known by my mother’s side of the family as the brightest known fruit on their limb, the polished family relation you set out for guests.  Cornelius, you see, was a 19 year-old farm boy on his family’s homestead near Blandford, Massachusetts on…

“That Shit Is Raw” (A Carlson Thanksgiving)

written November 22, 2012   Eric: The off-key singing of May’s door, opened at 7:30 was by no means the first to come to May’s ears this Thanksgiving morning.  Sonya has roamed until (only?) about two in the morning. “Good morning,” I had whispered to her, then just a huddled form.  We talked of things…

The Burden of Heavy Ornaments

May has a way of banging on my door, at Magnolia, that brings to mind debt collectors.  I have to smile to think of her thin frame delivering such blows to get my attention, lengthy as my residence is.  She chose just the wrong moment, as I was stepping into the shower.  Yes, I was…

Praise Be to St. Omar

There are several legendary accounts of the origin of coffee. One account involves the Yemenite Sufi mystic Ghothul Akbar Nooruddin Abu al-Hasan al-Shadhili. When traveling in Ethiopia, the legend goes, he observed birds of unusual vitality, and, upon trying the berries that the birds had been eating, experienced the same vitality. Other accounts attribute the…

A Simple Trip

written November 23, 2012.   The shared family Thanksgiving of yesterday was still fresh, not yet fully digested by May and I, when my sister Sonya came suddenly in the room.  After asking me for some reason if I had dated much while at Western, in front of my present girlfriend, Sonya happily announced her…

A Bloody Travesty of a Sorry Event (And the Civil War Was There, Too)

written November 24, 2012     This will be an easy day, I thought.  Just seeing a simple movie, while visiting home with my girlfriend May during Thanksgiving, I thought… Sonya my sister then hopped into the room, having  a question about a famous black comedian from Peoria she didn’t know (Richard Prior), which continued…

So This Is the Blues

written June 2010 The average person on the street would rather endure a light carpet-bombing than visit the old hometown.  Opinions on most birthplaces range from questionable queasiness to downright despondence,depending on if you are an escapee or one of the ones left behind to pick up the pieces and carry on.  It may creep…