Grandsons on the Cusp | News, Sports, Jobs
Being “on the cusp” is one of my favorite metaphors. The word derives from the Latin “cuspis,” meaning a literal high point, as in the top of an arch. F
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Being “on the cusp” is one of my favorite metaphors. The word derives from the Latin “cuspis,” meaning a literal high point, as in the top of an arch. F
“You know what song I have stuck in my head now?” Lamppost Head asked us, a Cheshire Cat grin on his face. We couldn’t guess. “’A Kick in the Head
“I always thought how stupid it was for people to get lost in the woods. All you have to do is follow the trail back,” my wife said. Yet there we were, lo
FRED MILLER To put you in the proper frame of mind for this story, forget the current spell of warm, springlike weather and go back to mid-February, with four inches of snow on the ground and a thermometer that hadn’t moved above freezing in three weeks. On one of the coldest of those mornings Honey asked me, “Have you seen Flop today? I haven’t seen him all morning. I’m a little worried.” No, I had not seen Flop the Cat, and I could not remember whether he had come in the night before. Of our three young ex-gentlemen cats, Flop during the cold weather had transitioned from the leas...
FRED MILLER Two grandsons, The 747 and Lamppost Head, happened to be staying overnight with us on the day that Honey cooked liver and onions for the first time in her life. The 747, boy of action, put a forkful in his mouth and reached an immediate conclusion: “Yum!” Honey told me to slice some liver real thin for Lamppost Head because he has trouble chewing meat with his retainer and braces. I sliced and diced some, mixed in slivers of fried onions, put it in a little bowl and slid it across the table to him. Lamppost Head, thoughtful boy, took a bite, chewed it meditatively, took anothe...