Not grouchy. Just old.

April 24, 2016 § 7 Comments

catfishI glanced around the meeting room table.

Every one of the women gathered to discuss library business wore a catfish frown.


Catfish can’t help it. It’s simple anatomy, but as a young person I assumed the human face was mobile, and that facial expressions revealed the emotions within.

If so, I was in trouble. New at running a public library, I read the frowns of those women-of-a-certain-age as disapproval.

I hadn’t reckoned with the way age creates unintended facial expressions including the, “Hey kid, get off my lawn” glare, the “Life is one long disappointment” slump, and the face-at-rest frown.

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April 13, 2016 § 9 Comments


He is more animal than our old cattle dog Moo, who, especially in her dotage, was a grandmotherly friend, a Grande Dame who had her own opinions, offered sympathy, and clearly understood English.

Moo was one of us, a human who had inexplicably opted to be quadrupedal.

She was highly suspicious of other members of her birth species, Canis familiaris. Reacting with fury over the audacity of other dogs who dared to wag over for a pat, she warned them off. We were her people.


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