I saw a young man walking by the side of the road yesterday. He had a fey quality to him, and I felt I instantly recognized something in him that I’d seen before: a kind of tentative joy and relief, the sort that’s felt by the misfit adolescent who finds himself suddenly furloughed from the old routine of being shoved into lockers by thuggish peers or of hiding the humiliation of being the smartest boy in school who doesn’t know... Read more

American Quaker War Tax Resistance from the 17th through the 19th Century: A Documentary History. David Gross (ed). 2008. 500 p. The Picket Line, softcover, $24. (ISBN/EAN13:1438260156 / 9781438260150). One of the wonderful things, for me, as a new convert to Quakers, is having 350 years of history to catch up on. In American Quaker War Tax Resistance, David Gross has created, not so much a history of Quaker war tax resistance as a source book for those who seek... Read more

This post is a sequel to an earlier post, What’s Wrong with Recycling? The Trouble with Plastic. There’s an old joke about stingy, thrifty Yankees that deserves to make a comeback. If you haven’t heard it, it goes like this: The old man was known for his thrift and saving all his life. When he died, his children went up into his attic to see what he had kept up there. Neatly labeled, there were all sorts of things: boxes... Read more

This post is the first in a series. The sequel to this post is What to Do About Plastic: Watermelon Pickles and String Too Short to Save. I am increasingly troubled by the ubiquitous presence of something I used to take for granted: plastic. I’m typing these words on a plastic keyboard, and watching them appear on a computer monitor that is largely made of plastic. At my left are a series of plastic notebooks I use to hold information... Read more

I have been very aware of the growing darkness these last few weeks. It’s not surprising. I rise (too early!) and am out the door and off to work just about the time the sky is starting to gray up from the full blackness of night. As I drive over the wooded hills between my home and my job, the sky gradually warms. I watch as the east turns dying-embers red between the naked limbs of oaks and swamp maples.... Read more

This morning, Peter suggested we call a landscaping company to see about raking up our leaves. Now, our yard is pretty small, but the leaves haven’t shown any signs of raking themselves up, any more than the yard has tidied itself of fallen branches in the last few weeks, or the fence gate repaired itself. His suggestion is a practical one, and, if we’re not rolling in dough, still, we probably could swing it. But it feels wrong, so very... Read more

Hi,I hope you will excuse my being off-topic on this one. Yesterday, my mom was badly hurt when she was struck by a car as she was walking down the road. Happily, the driver stayed with her and called for help; she was thrown by the impact some distance into the woods, and might not have been found if he/she had been less conscientious. So already, there is something to be grateful for. Medical stuff: I’ll update or correct this... Read more

This post is at least partly Cosette’s fault. She named me in a perfectly good meme over at Pandora’s Bazaar–the Six Random Things meme. But I’m feeling a bit twisted today, so I’m going to twist it. You ready? The new, twisted rules are these: Link to the person or persons who tagged you. Post the rules on your blog. Name 6 obscure books that you honestly love–but think almost no one else could. (You must really love the books;... Read more

I know it’s not over. I know that the hard job of governing the country has not yet begun, let alone the harder job of uniting a country divided by a long and polarizing campaign. But I know, too, that I am not the only person out there who has been hearing, in Barack Obama’s victory speech, echoes of an earlier speech: We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it really doesn’t matter with me now, because I’ve been to... Read more

I don’t think I have been as moved by the act of casting a ballot since I turned eighteen. I began to realize just how different this election felt to me as I left school. In spite of my eagerness to learn about voter turnout and to begin the election night past-time of trying to scry the vote, I turned the news off as soon as it came on and rode home in silence. It just felt wrong to clutter... Read more