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Ranson’s Beard

By Jim Anderson

Ranson's beard was older than his daughter, the corporate attorney who'd moved to Oregon to get as far from him as North America allowed. He wasn't shaving without due consideration. He'd grown it the summer of Lillian's pregnancy. He was teaching philosophy in Ohio, and working on his book. One day he stopped at a produce stand, and the be-whiskered farmer …

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The Cross Roads

Looks good, don't he? Like he could sit up and tell a story. Ol' Terry knew a few! He wanted to write, you know. No, I never saw him with the arm, either. Yeah. In the war. The Hürtgen Forest, 1944.  Same day he crossed paths with Hemingway. Sure, the author! Funny story. Terry's hugging the ground …

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The Tiny Shop of Hope

She was a writer, working on a book about antique furniture restoration. Her research was a collection of disparate facts. No theme, no center. Would it ever come together? Would anyone care if it did not? Aside from her publisher, of course, whose deadlines were scratched in granite.She went on …

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How Nan Got Her Maple Trimmed

Nan wanted a bough or two cut off the big silver maple in our backyard. So I hired a crew. Then she was hot to put in her garden and didn't like having to wait. "It's too early to plant, anyway," I said. When the crew got here, she was hot for the climber. "You should see the hunk trimming my …

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The Parisian Sky

In the Latin Quarter, we were given a dusky room with an alley view. I frowned. I grumbled. "The room is dismal," I told the proprietor.  "It looks nothing like your website." He was as old as the cobblestones.   …

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On the Burma Road

Mr. Jenkins disliked me on sight. That was surprising. I'm as pleasant as the next guy, and he couldn't see well. "I can smell a Jap a mile away," he said. "How I survived." I ignored the slur. "Ready for your walk, sir?" …

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Fragment of a memoir

"The thing is," Papa said, "everybody gets that story wrong. They always think the baby died." "Well, sure," I said. "What else?" Papa shook his head. "The baby didn't die. The mother doesn't want the shoes." He finished his gin martini and motioned to the barkeep for another. The fan turned …

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About me

As you have probably figured out, my name is Jim and I am a writer. For many years, I was a college writing teacher, too -- among many other life roles. I have another, more popular blog called Life After Carbs. It's about losing weight on a reduced carbohydrate diet. And it's about me -- my favorite …

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El Morro

The Desire to Leave a Mark ... El Morro (the headland) stands in western New Mexico, and is also known as Inscription Rock. At the base of El Morro is a pool of water that for centuries attracted parched travelers to the spot, many of whom carved dates, names, and messages (including petroglyphs) into the …

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