Since President Obama launched the My Brother’s Keeper (MBK) program in 2014, our office has been working with leaders around the state to encourage cities to invest in all students, particularly young men of color, who we know are so often locked out of opportunities.
By Stan Popovich
November begins! Autumn’s final full month, which bridges the seasons. Change is visibly afoot. The natural world is everywhere in glorious transition.
By Joe West
By Chris Piper
Joshua is no longer a newborn, but still a little hero by all. At three months old, he loves to be a part of the action, and splashes smiles on whoever takes a minute to talk to him. His big blue eyes and beautiful cover of medium to dark wavy hair remind me a lot of Julia when she was a baby. This handsome little guy has added a rich dimension in our home in more ways than I could ever tell. Why, the other day, I laughingly told a sister at church, “If we keep enjoying each baby, more and more, I think we’ll need a dozen!” On a more serious note, there really is an awesome responsibility that goes with each child; having children simply has nothing to do with having things done the easy way. Let me hasten to add; I would never do without any of them. God has brought them to our hearts and home through foster care and biologically, and there is no way we’d want to do without any one of them.
Even though the geniuses at the Apple store may dispute this, I am capable of embracing new technology. I didn’t say I would actually do it. I also didn’t say I would be good at it. I merely stated it is within my admittedly limited techno-adventurousness to try it. Why just last week, I downloaded an airline boarding pass onto my phone. I fully realize people have been downloading boarding passes onto their phones since 10 Y.I.S.J.E. (that’s 10 Years Into the Steve Jobs Era).
Shock. Horror. Is it true? Surely not. How could it be?
I recently checked out my local possumwood patch. What? You’re unfamiliar with possumwood? Well, so was I until a few years ago when I stopped by to visit a fellow brook-trout devotee and sometimes poet at his charming rural homestead in North Carolina.
When I was a young girl, something I especially enjoyed was the challenge of seeing how many gallons of milk I could turn into cheese, yogurt, or cream pies. Anna Belle was our old faithful Jersey that dad would milk each morning and evening. We would get anywhere from three to four gallons a day. I always kept an eye open for new recipes and ways to use up extra milk. Making butter wasn’t my favorite job ever, yet the satisfaction of fresh creamy butter is etched permanently in my mind. We would have a container in the freezer where we’d dump in the cream each time we skimmed off a gallon of milk until we had enough to make a large batch butter. I would then thaw it to room temperature and take it out to the shop where dad would set up his drill press for me to make butter the easy way. His large drill press would whip the cream and produce butter much more quickly then I could ever shake it in jars.