Phil Jones

Good rainy morning from Whiskey Creek, where by now we’ve memorized our polite if a little business-like ‘thanks but no thanks’ replies to the scores of insurance brokers who call each day wishing Richard a happy sixty-fifth birthday and wondering aloud if he’s made...

Phil the Dog

I wonder, is this a common experience in peoples’ life stories or is it a rare one? Someone who is larger than life, maybe someone who you could say is magical in some way, drops arbitrarily into your life, pretty much out of nowhere, hangs around for just a brief...

Phil the Dog, the Conclusion

(Editor’s Note—Today’s Welcome column presents the conclusion of the talking dog story begun here on Tuesday. In case you missed Part One, you can catch up by clicking here..) “Phil started this fire,” he said grimly, “he pulled the blanket from the kitchen through...

Phillip

Good morning from Whiskey Creek, where most of the snow has gone to snow heaven, (our aquifer, sixty feet directly below our windmill…I guess that would be the direction of hell), the dogs have stopped scratching their heads about the edible white stuff that steals...

Pick Pockets

I enjoyed reading Cliff’s column this month; he was mentioning all the things he finds in his pockets when digging for his car keys; the capo, tuner, and guitar picks. I always carry picks in the pocket of my jeans too; you never know when a need may arise. Many of...