From the Pen Cup

When I read this post by Dime Raven Novel, it once again brought up a subject that I’ve thought about for years but never fully resolved—what to do with my journals after I die. Initially I thought that I’d leave instructions to have them cremated with me. That seemed kind of poetic and solve...

I retired from Hamilton College almost two years ago, but always make it a point to attend their commencement ceremony, which, this year, was held last Sunday. The weather did not fully cooperate (chilly,...

The internet tells me that the word “dicey” is “derived from the unpredictable nature of rolling dice (makes sense), and that the word “is often used to characterize a situation where the success or safety of an action is questionable.” Except for the “safety” part, “dicey” is an apt way to describe my journaling—especially if you’re talking about unpredictability. Where I st...

It’s strange sifting through your parents’ belongings after they’re gone—like the weirdest archaeological dig ever. Even though they were in no way hoarders, there’s a lot of stuff. Like collections of rubber bands looped around doorknobs, rubber bands in desk drawers, rubber bands holding stacks of check registers together—the majority of which disintegrated as soon as I tou...