Dispatches Del Camino

The village of Tineo is bathed in thick morning fog. The impenetrable miasma is smothering the Sierra de Tineo mountains like a damp dishrag.

The miasma is really spectacular. I have always wanted to use the word “miasma.” But I’ve never had a reason to use it until now. I’ve gone for many, many years with a burning passion to use this word, just like actual authors do in actual classic literature, but alas, I’ve never had the opportunity. Until today. But now that I’ve used “miasma,” I don’t feel any elation inside. In fact, I feel nothing. It was not the exuberant vocabularial experience I was hoping for.

The Blind Coonhound

My granddaddy said you can tell a lot about a person by the way they treat a dog. Someone who treats a dog badly, is a bad person. A person who treats a dog with regard and deference is a good egg.

Right now, my wife is holding our blind coonhound, Marigold. She holds our rescue adoptee like a baby. Not like a dog.

The Director of the Household: The Sound of Marriage

There is an ancient proverb that says, “The couple that does not record audiobooks together stays together.”

These are wise words. I know this now because recently, I wrote a book with my wife. This past weekend, Jamie and I recorded the audiobook version together, which was a lot of fun. And anyway, now I’m scheduled for dental surgery.

The Problem with Fear

I woke up thinking about you. There I was, at 4:41 a.m., sitting in my living room, wondering about you.

I heard the doctor gave you bad news. And I couldn’t help but imagine how afraid you must be.