Showing posts from December, 2017


Last year’s mowing season provided good profit for Dempsey. But it was long over, the grass of the South turned brown and dormant. Dempsey read once about why the grass did this: C old weather hampers the roots from extracting the rich nutrients needed to stay green and grow.   He didn’t really understand all the technical detail. Brown grass always meant an end to his cash flow. The winter gave time for equipment repair and odd jobs, but little money. Dempsey sat sharpening the mower blade on the small bench in the wood shed behind his house. He smelled a pleasant scent from the house kitchen drifting toward the shed. Dinner. He got up to look out the window toward the house which sat on the other side of a small garden. Catching his image reflected in the shed window, he rubbed his short gray beard and thought for a moment the quickness of the years past.  The mower man turned again and resumed the sharpening of the blade. He hoped it would stretch through another season

A 2018 WISH

May we all find beauty, adventure and peace in every corner of the coming year....


Sulmona Meats, Boston The rain poured down in winter cold Boston The evening slipping into night. I walked through the North End, the uneven cobblestone making footing unsure. People were dashing home holding newspapers and umbrellas over their heads, clutching coats. Maybe wondering about the next paycheck. I passed Sulmona Meats on Parmenter, it had been there for ever. The showroom was closed and dark. The Street not much bigger than a crooked alley.  Dark cold stone building surrounded me. In the room next-door to the showroom, a light was on. There the owner stood over a bench creating the cut meats for the next day. He had done the same-thing for years, day after day.  You could tell it was his life and art. He never looked up from his craft, neatly piling the slices in front of him. Proud of what he did and his place in life.... David Young