A Divine Comedy
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Good morning, Bacon Neighborhood! I’ve been given permission to share a few journal entries from my friend Jack Barnwell, who has been chronicling his life and our times for many years now. I asked him to share journal entries from…
This week, I spotted 4 vultures in a tree in our yard, a wandering turkey two houses down, two ducks enjoying a conjugal visit in a local pond, and cardinals and mockingbirds, in particular, establishing territory. I also spotted two…
Tonight’s fierce Saturday Night Special comes straight from the heart and soul of regular Bacon contributor Matt Osborne… Our Bacon editor is allowing a break in protocol while we all shelter in place. So, no books this time. Songs instead….
Gratitude is sometimes like tending a garden. You can cultivate it, for sure, with regular attention and care. But sometimes it’s more like playing in the ocean when you were a kid. A big wave sneaks up on you, washes…
Oak Hill is a bucolic suburban neighborhood – stable but always refreshing itself, well-tended, plenty of room to breathe. And dream. Play, if you’re a kid – run, if you’re a dog. But even – especially? – pretty suburban neighborhoods…
Everybody has to die of something. I didn’t say “everyone” on purpose. Every Body has to die of something. Yet we cannot bear to let a loved one die. We don’t much like to think of our own death….
Sean Kinch makes a strong case for Hilary Mantel’s new novel, The Mirror and the Light (in his socks, from his back porch, making quarantine look good). He calls his review a “nudge to fence sitters,” and I think you’ll…
I got in bed at 3:00 yesterday afternoon and took a nap. Did I need a nap? I did not need a nap. I was feeling listless. Adrift. On a walk with my husband later in the afternoon, he had…
It rained and stormed all day in Nashville – the soggiest Easter I can remember. I spent a peaceful morning in bed with 2 Strawberry Pop-Tarts, a cup of hot tea, the New York Times, and my iPad. During the…