This Spaghetti is...Incredible!

 

The other day Mrs. Chatterbox made spaghetti. I like spaghetti well enough but this spaghetti was different. It was—incredible, so good that after a few mouthfuls I could barely concentrate on what I was eating. I finally set down my fork and said, “What’s different about this spaghetti?”

You won't believe what made this spaghetti so incredible. Read about it (here).

Peculiar Picture #29

 

     This unpublished illustration might qualify as my most peculiar picture ever. I was reminded of it when Mrs. Chatterbox came home the other day and said, “I have terrible news.”

Read about it (here).

   

Dead Caesar

 

Whenever I recall an instance where someone was able to think quickly on their feet I remember a situation I experienced years ago while sitting on a bench in front of the British Museum in London. There, I witnessed an act of pure genius. Read about it (here).

Wrong Place; Wrong Time

 

 On Monday Mrs. Chatterbox’s car was in the shop so I drove her to work. She’s employed by the police department in our town and across the street from where she works is an outdoor mall. Later that day I arrived too early to pick her up for the drive home so I ambled across the street to kill time. As it happened, while wandering through the shops I received a call from nature and followed signs to a public restroom in a far-off corner of the mall’s courtyard. I was about to have a most unpleasant close encounter. Read about it (here).

 

Guppies

 

How does a woman become immortal in the eyes of a sensitive eight year old boy, so much so that fifty years later he still carries her around in a special corner of his heart? In my case it involved, in addition to a woman, a guppy. Read about it (here.)

Beautiful Island

 

Northern Italy is blessed with an abundance of beautiful lakes, Lake Como being the most famous, although in my opinion others are equally beautiful, such as Lake Maggiore. But it was the sight of something erected on the shores of this lake that really put a lump in my throat. Check it out (here.)

A Curious Heist

 

A true story I avoid talking about for obvious reasons.

     This will sound incriminating, just as it did back when I was sixteen, but honest to God I had nothing to do with it. Even if I had, I wouldn’t have been stupid enough to leave such incriminating evidence. Of course there were those who will always believe I was involved, but I wasn’t. Read about it (here.)

Two Announcements

 

Two special shout outs this morning. First, thanks to Hilary at The Smitten Image for singling out my story A Home for the Swifts. It’s always an honor to see my name in her Posts of the Week feature. Check out Hilary’s blog to enjoy amazing photography and the other great posts selected this week.

    

Second, I’ve once again been invited to submit a story to Retirement and Good Living. I’m told my last contribution, An Elixir for Retirement, was one of their most viewed articles. I hope you’ll check out Buffaloed and leave a comment at Retirement and Good Living so these nice folks will invite me back. Just follow the link: http://retirementandgoodliving.com/buffaloed/

    

Have a terrific day.

Hear Him Roar!

When our son was small he loved going to the zoo. Back then, the Portland Zoo was well known for its elephant breeding program but not much else. Every year we would walk past enclosures with sleepy bears, molting predatory birds and disinterested zebras. But one time was different. Read about it (here).

God, Can We Talk?

Adam has a complaint for God. Read about it (here.)

This One Sold #6

This picture marked a milestone in my illustration career. Read about it (here.)

Cosmic Cuties Revisited

 

A news story this week received very little attention. The Voyager-1 spacecraft, launched in 1977 to study the outer planets, has officially exited our solar system. It is now so far away that it takes 17 hours for a radio signal from Voyager to reach receivers here on Earth. To mark this occasion I’m repeating my post from January 2012. Check it out (here.)

A Home for the Swifts

 In the early 1980s Mrs C. and I weren’t the only ones looking for a new home in Portland Oregon. Winging up from Central America for a feast of flying insects, a cigar-shaped Vaux Swift was desperately seeking a new late summer home. The hollow tree serving as a roost for generations had been toppled by a recent storm. With thousands of hungry swifts soon to arrive, this scout must have been desperate to find an alternative roosting site.Where they chose to live might surprise you. Read about it (here.)

If Looks Could Kill

In the mid 70s the retail company I worked for transferred me from San Francisco to Oxnard, California, fifty miles north of LA. Oxnard had a rough and tumble reputation, and as a newlywed I was concerned about bringing Mrs. C. there. When I expressed concern my boss put an arm on my shoulder and tried to calm me with, “You like Mexican food, don’t you?”

I did like Mexican food, but was I willing to risk our lives for it? Read about it (here.)


 

The End of an Era

Read (here) why the British love this painting above all others and how history may be repeating itself with the United States.

Not What It Seems

Mrs. Chatterbox and I lived from paycheck to paycheck for several years after relocating to Portland, Oregon. Good fortune came our way one summer when Mrs. C. won the raffle at her company’s annual picnic—an all expense paid vacation to the Sunriver Resort in Central Oregon. We flew on a private plane to a small landing strip outside of Bend. When we landed it was evening; the setting sun was tipping the distant mountains purple and a large owl skirted a nearby meadow, hunting for dinner. We piled our luggage into a waiting rental car and headed for the resort.

I'll never forget what happened next. Read about it (here.)

Beam Me Up!

 For me, summer is a time for reflection, the season most loaded with memories of people and events gone by, seemingly endless carefree days of tree climbing and reading books from the bookmobile parked a few blocks from our house. I remember the hot stickiness of an era before air conditioning, water balloon fights to cool off, gorging on cold water from garden hoses, brushing away buzzing flies as hot dogs and hamburgers sizzled over briquettes with watermelon somewhere on ice. It seems only yesterday that I’d lie on the grass as the night sky deepened from violet to indigo, staring at stars that looked infinite yet close enough to swirl with my finger. 

Check out the conclusion (here).  

Losing My Hair: The House of Estrada

There comes a time when many men confront their worst fear: not that they’re mortal and not likely to achieve the life goals they’ve set, but the realization that their hair is making a pilgrimage to the shower drain. I was shocked when I noticed my comb was harboring more strands than usual, and horrified when I pulled a goopy wad from the shower drain. 

Some men will do anything to hold onto their hair. Read about it here.

This One Sold #5

This illustration is not one of my favorites but it does hold a special place in my heart for one particular reason. Read about it here.