The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
What shall I do?When I pick up the broom he leaves the room.When I fuss with kindling he runs for the yard.Then he’s back, and we hug for a long time.In his low-to-the-ground chest I can hear his heart slowing…
Your friend is coming I sayto Percy, and name a name and he runs to the door, hiswide mouth in its laugh-shape, and waves, since he has one, his tail.Emerson, I am trying to live, as you said we must,…
He puts his cheek against mineand makes small, expressive sounds.And when I’m awake, or awake enoughhe turns upside down, his four paws in the airand his eyes dark and fervent.Tell me you love me, he says.Tell me again.Could there be…
Our new dog, named for the beloved poet,ate a book which unfortunately we had left unguarded.Fortunately it was the Bhagavad Gita,of which many copies are available.Every day now, as Percy growsinto the beauty of his life, we touchhis wild, curly…
Now through the white orchard my little dog romps, breaking the new snow with wild feet.Running here running there, excited, hardly able to stop, he leaps, he spinsuntil the white snow is written upon in large, exuberant letters,a long sentence,…
I do not know what gorgeous thing the bluebird keeps saying,his voice easing out of his throat, beak, body into the pink airof the early morning. I like it whatever it is. Sometimesit seems the only thing in the world…
The vulture’swings areblack deathcolor butthe underwingsas sunlightflushes intothe feathersare brightare swampedwith light.Just somethingexplainable bythe sun’sangle yetI keeplooking Ikeep wonderingstanding sofar belowthese highfloating birdscould thisas mostthings dobe offeringsomething forus tothink aboutseriously?
I’m living in a warm place now, whereyou can purchase fresh blueberries allyear long. Labor free. From variouscountries in South America. They’reas sweet as any, and compared with theberries I used to pick in the fieldsoutside of Provincetown, they’reenormous. But…
I was enjoying everything: the rain, the path wherever it was taking me, the earth roots beginning to stir.I didn’t intend to start thinking about God, it just happened.How God, or the gods, are invisible, quite understandable.But holiness is visible,…
Do stones feel?Do they love their life?Or does their patience drown out everything else?When I walk on the beach I gather a few white ones, dark ones, the multiple colors.Don’t worry, I say, I’ll bring you back, and I do.Is…