writing
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Croissants, Bagels and Harvard’s Space Anomaly
There is no time of day more underrated than the morning. A cup of coffee with a slice of toast. Personally, I would prefer either a fresh croissant or a fresh bagel. Finding a quality bagel or croissant is difficult.… Continue reading
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Memory and Loss
This past week I drove past the home of a couple that I briefly had known. Judy and Diane lived next door to me while I lived at a place I came to call Hermits Pond. The following is a… Continue reading
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Muggers, Pretzels, and the Integrity of A Small Newspaper
Censors sneak up right before your eyes in broad daylight. They aren’t figures lurking in a dark alley on a rainy night waiting to mug you as you make your way from a subway entrance. The censors wear tailored suits.… Continue reading
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Friends & Taking a Vacation with a Postscript
Friends & Taking A Vacation I am often surprised when asked if Carl ten Hoopen is a real person. Be assured that he is. Any doubts that you have may be due to the photograph he asked me to use… Continue reading
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A Hospital Morning With Poetry
This morning was hospital day. This is when I make the mortgage and car payments for the doctors. A friend of mine always receives hugs when she meets with the nurses and doctors. I was greeted with a cheerful, “Good… Continue reading
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WHAT IS YOUR PASSION?
A REMINDER OF BEAUTY I received a newsletter from a dear friend, Terrill Welch, two days ago. Terrill is an artist residing on Mayne Island, British Columbia. The newsletter contained photographs of works in progress and photographs of the shoreline… Continue reading
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THE SALT OF INDIVIDUAL ACTION:
THE POSSIBILITY OF ANSWERS But what can one person do? I will not pretend to have all the answers to how to respond to the totalitarian regime that, in a few short months, has blatantly disregarded the law of our… Continue reading
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THE FOX AND CHANGE: A FABLE
“Things are going to change around here since they moved in,” Andy Jost said. “You saw him?” Fred Haisch asked. Andy nodded. Fred and Andy are my neighbors. Years ago when I first moved to Evoraburg, they and Andy’s three… Continue reading
Charles van Heck's Woodhull Journal 