FROM MY ARCHIVES . . .
Please enjoy this sampling of articles from my archive that I most enjoyed writing.
When I needed to find courage — which was quit eoften during my first year as a seventh-grade English teacher — I would think of my Grandmother, Ella Lyster Lewke, who taught in a one-room schoolhouse. I have a picture of her in her classroom, taken in 1928, with her twenty-four students. She is smiling.
Feb. 12, 1986: The stars were sharp in an unfriendly sort of way. Lying on my back on the icy sidewalk, I kept thinking, Those stars are too sharp.
I closed my eyes when the wind blew, but I could still see flashes of raw-edged light cut across my eyelids like fireworks.
At first glance, pride in its Norwegian heritage seems to be what this city's all about.
Norwegian rosemaling is painted on everything that doesn't move—including city garbage cans and the local McDonald's.
Your desk is covered with pieces of information that you want to put into your business plan. You've had your coffee. Your phone is off the hook. But you spend the next 15 minutesstaring out the window . . . unable to get going. YOU'RE NOT ALONE. Most people experience some form of writer's block when faced with a particularly important or large-scale job.
Her students lean forward in their chairs, trying to get chances to speak. She slowly raises her eyebrows and asks a student to consider an additional factor. Hands wave like flags. Her lips press together when she isn't speaking; her hair is pulled back into a bun; her clothes are neatly pressed. her spine is rigid. She expertly steers the discussion through waves of enthusiasm she has set in motion.
A friend recently made the mistake of giving me a fashionable digital watch for a gift. I was so upset that I started to cough.
"What are you coughing about?" he asked. "Everyone has at least one of these. They come in every color."