Life Stories

I was in kindergarten the day I spilled my chocolate milk all over Andy Kolberg’s lap. Unfortunately, for his pants and my thirst, I don’t think a drop remained inside the carton. It was as though that particular carton’s entire life was preparation for that moment: to make Andy Kolberg appear like he’d peed himself

So many of you clicked and “hearted” and wrote such nice things about “Take You Home.” As a way of saying thanks, I asked my mom if she’d mind sharing this little family gift with you.

Growing up my sisters and I would spend summer days roaming the neighborhoods on our bikes, heading home when the street lights started to buzz or my dad whistled with his index fingers. Then when I was around 8 or 9, my parents gave each of us a dog tag bracelet. It was a shiny

I am writing you from a makeshift hunting blind on the outer edge of my backyard. My sons Silas and August sit cross-legged beside me in the cool grass. Silas holds a yellow mason’s string tied to a twig 30 yards away. The twig props a cardboard box leaning upside down over rabbit pellets. Rabbit