Winter Solstice is the shortest day and the longest night of the year. It marks the gradual return of the sun and signifies birth when new seeds of life will spring forth. Similarly, Christianity uses this time of year to mark the birth of the son, signifying life eternal for all who partake of the light and become the body of Christ

I was inspecting my face after a shower when I noticed a small scar on my right temple. It is virtually invisible now but it was an angry white zig-zag for many years. I received it one night in 1984 when my best friend Jerry and I took our dates to the old “Devils Church” for some hormonally fueled teenage fun.

I wasn’t doing anything really. It was just the usual case of insomnia and vaguely defined worries that had me sitting in front of my computer at 2:00 a.m. I can’t recall exactly how I began to think about Joy Gunter once again but I believe it may have had something to do with the song on Winamp

Recently I began a workout regimen in order to improve my health and mental clarity. In the process I discovered an important workout tip or two that I simply must share with everyone. This tip may not win you points with the neighbors, but it will certainly improve your workout.

Tonight we were nearly busted. Our notorious gang was face to face with the police, caught red-handed. Not only red-handed my friends, but in the very act of committing an (apparently) grievous crime. Yes, we had been caught rehearsing too loud.

I was told about a picturesque waterfall about an hours drive from here. Always on the lookout for new locations to photograph I put my things in the car and headed out there. I arrived after a pleasant drive and parked the car just across a old iron bridge that spanned a quietly murmuring stream. Forgetting about my power to cause fish to sink to the bottom and sulk.

I got the call about 4:30 p.m. on Monday. The message was simple, my father was in the hospital and it was unlikely he would leave. I was not surprised, for my father has been ill for a long time and so there was no painful emotion of shock. My only thought as I stood in the baking sun was that my father would never stand in it with me again and that he was afraid.

She was not there and had not been there for a very long time. Instead she was somplace else. She was inside of me, still living and laughing. Still cocking her eyebrow and chattering in a tumble of falsetto words. She was everywhere that I had been and everywhere that I was going. Even now she is on the Internet in an essay written at the crack of dawn while my new kitten mewls at my feet. No, she is not there. She is everywhere. I think that I am okay with that.