home,paged,page-template,page-template-blog-small-image,page-template-blog-small-image-php,page,page-id-2575,paged-10,page-paged-10,bridge-core-2.2.1,tribe-no-js,,qode-title-hidden,qode_grid_1300,qode-content-sidebar-responsive,qode-theme-ver-20.8,qode-theme-bridge,disabled_footer_top,qode_header_in_grid,wpb-js-composer js-comp-ver-6.1,vc_responsive

“Crisply vivid, witty, and at once far-seeing and a-whisper with intimacies…a rare and splendid pleasure”- C.M. Mayo, Meteor

“…a wondrous collection that reminds us of states of being so fundamental they can only be described as holy.” – Juliet Patterson, Threnody


Shelley’s Blog

It's the title of John Graves' 1960 memoir of his trip along the Brazos River before a series of dams forever changed its landscape.  And his. And ours. I'm reminded of what we all share of rivers altered and mostly forgotten when I see the Rio Grande near Las Cruces, New Mexico "turned off" each year.  Yes, the flow from Caballo Dam near Truth or Consequences is throttled usually in early fall, and by the end of October you cross a bridge over a mostly dry sandy river bed--save...

I'd just finished reading Jerry Rogers' manuscript about his big brother lost in the kamikaze hit on the USS Franklin during World War II.  I'm to blurb the book--one of those endorsements you read on the back covers--and I was struggling to find the right words to celebrate Jerry's lasting brotherly love and talents as a historian in recovering Elden's story from the family's cache of letters. And then I checked Facebook, always interested in my nephew's and great-niece's posts--the best way to stay in touch with this long-distance...