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Articles by Dennis E. PowellPage 7 of 8. The View from Mudsock Heights: Always Remember: Ownership Brings ResponsibilityBy Dennis E. Powell | Mar 11, 2009 at 22:17:42It’s something that folks who grew up around here have come to take for granted, in which many have participated since they were kids. Handled responsibly, they reason, there is little danger. The View from Mudsock Heights: When the Power Goes OutBy Dennis E. Powell | Mar 4, 2009 at 22:47:50When the power went off, it woke me up. Of course, a sensible person would have looked around, rolled over, and slept some more. The View from Mudsock Heights: The Ancient Belching Monster in the BarnBy Dennis E. Powell | Feb 25, 2009 at 22:26:49So call me a Luddite. Fact is, calendar notwithstanding, I shall consider spring to have arrived when I can start the Gravely without risk of dislocating my shoulder. Part of this has to do with the lifting of heavy weights to build my strength and part has to do with the weather becoming warm enough that the oil in the thing is thinner than molasses. The View from Mudsock Heights: Feather-Shaped Soot Marks on My WallBy Dennis E. Powell | Feb 18, 2009 at 23:42:30Somebody’s bright idea is banging around in my chimney right now, and lest there be any doubt, I don’t much like it. The View from Mudsock Heights: The Space Time Continuum from a PorchBy Dennis E. Powell | Feb 11, 2009 at 23:30:42It’s enough to give you a headache. A few years ago I was working on a book with Dr. Morris E. Chafetz, and in the course of conversation he said, “Maybe time doesn’t really exist. Maybe it’s just something we’ve created for our own convenience.” As a child of the space age, I’d heard speculations of all sorts and now, with a book to get out, I didn’t see where we had time to discuss it. “Yeah, maybe,” I replied. The View from Mudsock Heights: Deep Philosophizing in a Parking LotBy Dennis E. Powell | Feb 4, 2009 at 23:14:41There was no way to tell whether the old fellow thought he recognized me or would have begun the conversation with anyone who happened by. Nor, really, did it matter. Our meeting outside the store on one of the warm days week before last began with his question. “What do you think of that tomb of Jesus they say they found?” The View from Mudsock Heights: Here Comes the Vast Array of Plumage and SongBy Dennis E. Powell | Jan 28, 2009 at 23:15:22Before it gets much warmer, I need to fetch out the ladder and put up an obstruction so the phoebes won’t build another nest over my porch swing. The View from Mudsock Heights: The Country, the Wave and EtiquetteBy Dennis E. Powell | Jan 21, 2009 at 22:58:50If you’re new to this area and are even a little observant, one of the first things you’re likely to notice is the wave. You won’t see it in town, but on country roads it is almost a rule of civilized behavior. The View from Mudsock Heights: This Old WiringBy Dennis E. Powell | Jan 14, 2009 at 23:46:17One doesn’t hear a lot of complaining out here in the country, but a fairly consistent complaint is about telephone service. I think that this is unfair, because the phone lines seem in as good a shape as they were the day Alexander Graham Bell strung them. The View from Mudsock Heights: This Could Easily Become the Worst Turn of EventsBy Dennis E. Powell | Jan 7, 2009 at 12:56:33It’s as clear in my mind as if it had happened yesterday. The conversation was with a skilled biologist I had just met, someone who would become a close friend. Without prompting, I offered a prediction. “I don’t think the environment will get us,” I said. “I think it will be a bug.” |
The Danger of PeacemakerBy Timothy R. ButlerHere is a story. The leaders of a church have a personal agenda against someone and want to quiet him, exact revenge or what have you. They not only come at him within their church, they continue by following him outside of that church to any other church he seeks refuge at and any place he works, making a wreck of his life in the process. That is the sort of thing that only happened in the past, in dusty tales of witch-hunts in Salem or the Inquisition in Spain, right? Wrong: it is happening today, perhaps at a seemingly normal church near you. |
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