Our home is on the cusp of entering its 107th year. My family is just the fourth to live here, and this is not uncommon on our street. Numerous folks spend the majority of their lives here, which has made for a tremendously desirable, stable neighborhood. I’m aware of two former notables: a U.S. Senator out … More Woven into the tapestry of an old home
This is the entire accumulation of papers and notes saved from my favorite classes in college and grad school: I’ve never consulted them, but I have stored and moved ’em around for nearly two decades. Is this this the sum of all the knowledge gained from tens of thousands of dollars in higher education? Can … More Whittling down to the essentials
A thousand words and emotions are embedded in this image. My wife’s painting spent a month in the city council chambers a while back, and I was just now able to retrieve it from the Duluth Art Institute (by the way, leave all of February open to enjoy her upcoming show there — the Depot). Albert Woolson holds … More Weaving Community Connections On My Historic Bicycle
I’ve stopped buying my mom things. With a house already filled with stuff, she really doesn’t need anything. I also live 400 miles away from her. For years Mother’s Day brought guilt and anxiety. What does it look like today? I’d say this is a time of transition. The writing of my book and the … More Mother’s Day in the midst of a healing relationship
When you live like this, it’s a given that your life will be defined by chaos. Nothing can be counted upon. There is no true north, no way out of the wilderness, and no firm foundation. As the child of a hoarder, I was reared in an atmosphere of squalor. Things that most people take … More From Lost to Found
The mathematical odds of this remarkable coincidence must be somewhere on the order of 10,000,00: 1. Never in my life have I been more excited to receive packages. Contained within this stack of boxes is the very first shipment of my new book, The Emancipation of a Buried Man. After receiving this shipment I immediately … More How, you ask, is My Mother Handling the Publishing of a Memoir that Plumbs the Depths of Squalor and Emerges With Hope and Freedom?
As a child I had over 100 animals in my bedroom. That’s right, one hundred. Half of these were birds that flew freely throughout the room while leaving poop and seed hulls everywhere. My bed seemed to be the primary target for their marksmanship, whilst on the fly. My sheets were never soft, clean, and … More Former Animal Hoarder Delights in Daughter’s Manageable Quantity of Pets