It’s early Thursday morning as I write this, not yet 48 hours after our vet came to the house, sat on the floor with us and dispatched our much-loved Frosty to the Rainbow Bridge. It was exactly eight years after his Gotcha Day, a day when both his and our lives changed dramatically for the better.
Early on, even on Gotcha Day, Frosty established himself as my wingman. This was on the drive home after picking him up from the transport, December 3, 2016.
I am due to record
I had just watched and read Adam Garr's latest blog post/video (Rise Above) a week or so ago, in which he lamented the demise of Turf Twitter into a "cesspool of contrarians and armchair quarterbacks". Frankly, I had not seen much of that in turf-related social media content, maybe because I typically don't read the comments. I have found across the board that's where the trolls reside, the vitriol festers, the arguments start, where the grenade-launchers hide in the weeds... and I have no inter
There are two sets of stone steps at my home in Vermont. One, leading up to the front door, was freshly hewn at a local quarry when we built fifteen years ago. The other, old and trodden, was rescued from an old church about to be torn down. The new steps are all crisp edges and smooth surfaces, appropriate for a formal front entrance, a testament to craftsmanship and quality of manufacture. They are beautiful but at the same time somehow sterile.
The old steps are across the drive and lead