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Peggy Dover

The power of motherhood

I lost my mother too soon, in my opinion. Wilma Wave Dover left us nearly 30 years ago, and though I miss her on a regular basis, the fragrance of her loving in...

Adventure by rail

“The tandem might of the engines commanded respect and drew me to their strength. I was afraid to touch them, though I wanted to. What would folks think of...

Smothered in mustard

Happy Easter, all. Wasn’t that a wonderful, wacky, wild week of white and wet wonderment? I’m getting carried away, but so what. Why not waste words? I’m celebr...

Time out at the Running Y

The following may sound like a paid endorsement for a particular resort, but be assured, I took no bribe and have no stock in the company. The only sad thing a...

Sunflower memories, Sunflower hope

We could hail this the year of the sunflower. In recent days, the ubiquitous standard-bearer has sprouted everywhere from social profiles to wreaths. What chee...

Playing catch-up on the way to Spring

The first time I walked into a public place without a mask I felt like whooping out loud to expel as much water vapor as possible. Not really. It would have b...

Sunshine, flowers, birds and Daniel Nickels

The sun is flashing bright as if nothing happened over the past two years. Buds on the flowering cherry are at the bursting. These mornings, tweety birds beat ...

Barnstormers Theatre turns 70

We stepped inside the intimate space eager for a respite from the city and life. We found our seats and waited for the transport through time to the misty, myst...

The woodworker’s tools

“The carpenter dresses his plank, the tongue of his foreplane whistles its wild, ascending lisp...” — Walt Whitman If idle hands are the devil’s tools...

Angst and victory during a week of sports

The 24th Winter Olympics brought their usual mix of poetry and sadness. I grew up watching the summer and winter games, Dad being the family athlete. I watch in...

Always something to celebrate

Well, another Groundhog Day has come and gone. Party horns, streamers, chucked wood and other festive decorations may be stowed, and time spent in holiday prepa...

Fools’ gold and a false spring

Most years, having a birthday in the Rogue Valley in January feels like sitting inside an igloo in the fog with only the hollow sound of, well, no, there is no ...

Wines in the pines

Picture yourself in a treehouse in the woods, drinking good wine and watching a river flow. I can testify that it’s possible and makes for a dandy day trip. The...

Any way the fish flops

They arrived from Amazon the other day complete with instructions, two USB cables and two packets of catnip. A pair of electronic moving-fish cat toys came pack...

Whittling down the excess holiday baggage

Days have a nasty habit of scurrying by unnoticed. A couple of weeks pass without a walk if I’m not careful. It happened when our weather — the big whiteout of ...

Expecting nothing in 2022

Supposedly it was Oscar Wilde who first offered the erudite suggestion, “To expect the unexpected shows a thoroughly modern intellect.” I might agree if our mod...