This piece is part of a longer essay I wrote in June of 2006 about a trip my wife and I took to Florence in July of 2006. I offer it now, in February, 2020, to honor Saint Valentine. My sticky-notes in the Blue Guide marked the Orsanmichele, a massive, oddly-shaped building built by Florence’s
Three Years Later The First Day Nones “He’s crazy,“ Geraut said. He was hunched next to Jannequin, both of them wrapped in their cloaks with their hoods pulled down to their noses, backs against the rough front slats of the cart, trying to doze as the old mule plodded along. Eastertide had come late that
Three Years Later The First Day Nones “He’s crazy,“ Geraut said. He was hunched next to Jannequin, both of them wrapped in their cloaks with their hoods pulled down to their noses, backs against the rough front slats of the cart, trying to doze as the old mule plodded along. Eastertide had come late that
PERFECTION Prologue Jannequin knew he was going to die. There were fires breaking out all over the city, and his own people had set them. The Occitan army had begun launching balls of Greek fire over Carcassona’s walls. The Franks were clinging stubbornly to the city, and Count Raimon must have decided to burn it
Dear Kith and Kin, For my blog, ragbagmind.com, I’ve posted a cartoon strip instead of an essay. Some explanation is in order. In the early 1970s I was a member of a troupe of actors that toured the eastern half of the country, from Massachusetts to Louisiana, and from Virginia to Iowa. We were rather
T-BONE AND THE JEEP I started my 18-month Army hitch at the 564th MP Company in Massweiler, Germany as a tower guard, wearing a helmet and carrying an old M-14 rifle and two clips of past-use-date ammunition. But after a few months the CO, Captain “Jumpin’” Jimmy Fine (the “Jumpin’” adjective was because he kept
Which Way To East Vassalboro? Another “Bert And I” Story Bert was setting in the rocker on his porch one fine fall morning when he heard what sounded like a whole hive of angry bees buzzing. He looked down the hill and there was one of those foreign convertible sports cars, painted bright red, moving
Splat Humphty Drumphty wanted a wall. Humphty Drumphty had a great fall. All the right wing-nuts and White-Power men Couldn’t put Humphty together again.