By K D | December 4, 2017

And billy carried the dog. He picked her up from her quaking legs in the parking lot and cradled her tenderly in his arms, part of it a hug and the other a carry, and he brought her into the clinic room where Melissa waited and closed the door behind them. He was about to…

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By K D | December 1, 2017

Disjointed, because that’s how I roll. I write these things knowing that people will turn away, but in the hope that some might not. I’ve sat in front of my computer a lot lately. This morning for ten minutes, and then another five, and later on another five. I’ve picked up my phone and opened…

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By K D | November 27, 2017

Two months. You’d be surprised how much change you can pack into two months. I’ve been fairly quiet on the blogging front since we left Canmore, but actually because of a glut of new material rather than a lack thereof. It’s challenging to distill everything that has happened or that I’ve learned, so I’ve decided…

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In Reach

By K D | November 1, 2017

From, 2014: The sound of the train permeates most of this valley. Sometimes the air is so hollow you would think you were standing right next to the tracks. Other times its the faint grind of steel on steel that etches it’s way up the mountainside. Over the years your awareness of it begins…

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By K D | October 27, 2017

This is immensely disjointed, but that’s kind of how my thought processes are these days. “Ah, there you are. I thought you might have left, but I knew deep down you hadn’t.” The dogs sleeping in the darkened corners of the trailer, and something unseen stirring in the shadows under the door. “I knew you…

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In the Current

By K D | October 15, 2017

Recycled from In my early twenties I drove alone along the road to Elmira often. I was a fly fisherman then, and even beyond that I was a kid so entirely lost in the greatness of life that I couldn’t see straight. Without warning I would be caught with a sense of incomprehensible joy…

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The Close and Distant Valleys

By K D | October 14, 2017

Billy on the rear gate of the pickup truck with his ankles crossed above his boots and the cuffs of his jeans wet from walking through the new snow woods and his chainsaw resting on the floor of the forest, his elbows then resting on his knees and his chin then resting on the heels…

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No Hurry

By K D | October 12, 2017

This is going to sound out there, but whatever. A number of months ago I realized that I am the agent of joy in my life. While external factors can increase or decrease my momentary happiness, I have the capacity to impact the level of it over the long term. I can raise the bar…

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A Much Softer Light

By K D | October 3, 2017

Billy woke in the morning and knelt on the cold floor and scratched the skin through the thick fur of the mane of the sitting dog. He looked out the window to the thin crest of light over the shoulder of the mountain, starting orange and rose and fading upward into the dark firmament of…

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One Week

By K D | September 26, 2017

I do my best to keep things in check, balancing my highs and good times with probable periods of payback, the knowledge that nothing comes for free. I wouldn’t say I expect the worst to happen, but my habits over the years have laid the groundwork to be suspicious when the pendulum swings toward sunny…

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