A GOOD PAL

His name is Brent Spence. We often

get together – our wives, both RNs, have

known and worked together for years.

Brent has a talent for building things.

Big and small. Like his house from the

foundations. Or close to it.

It’s the small things that impress me

most about him. He builds them out of

branches. Big and small. Like the photo

here of the reindeer.

He whittles away and look what he

comes up with.

Writer’s comment: To me it boggles

the mind. I can imagine him sitting in the

backyard holding a branch from a tree.

He stares at it; puzzles over it.

Do things go through his mind? Like

“what the heck shall I do next”?

He nods, smiles to himself and gets

down to work.

HOW COULD I DO THAT?

Don’t ask me. During the week I think

of what might work for my Sunday blog.

A few paragraphs, or four, enough to write what

might be of interest.

With it done, reworked several times, I hit either

‘save’ or print it.

Today I hit whatever and it was gone. Gone, as they say, with

the wind.

My wife, Rosanne, tried desperately to find it

“It’s gone, Clarke,” she said. “Sorry.”

Her words were my worst nightmare.