Author: Bill Woodall

Rain. Clouds. Really? Life has to be about more than staying dry.

The sublime summertime beauty of this wooded bowl is beguiling. Beyond that though, I find huge happiness in watching the families who gather here. Some come unaccompanied by kinfolks, a…

Millie is one of those unfortunate souls who never met her biological father and can’t come up with coin for a DNA test. So, she claims me. For Father’s Day…

That’s my son, Josh. The bald one. The one with facial hair. As in so many of the last 15 or so years, Josh is in the Middle East today,…

Every Zippo lighter every made is and has been manufacrured in Bradford, PA. Likewise, every Case knife — W.R. Case & Sons is now owned by Zippo — has been…

After I graduated Jacksonville High School at the tail end of the ’60s, I enrolled at Lon Morris College, a small Methodist junior college across town. Among my LMC classmates…

… as Jethro Bodine would have said. Not all days feel like I’ve landed in paradise. Today was one of those. We’re short-handed by one. That leaves three. Two were…

Back about 1960 I was a Cub Scout in Maysville, Oklahoma. Mom was a Den Mother. Apparently there was a merit badge available for making a scrapbook; I can’t think…

Today is Monday. The picnic areas are empty. All but a few campers and a handful of fishermen are home, on the job in their office, their store, or their…

Willow Creek — clear, cool and from time-to-time home to tasty trout — provides a restful place for a mid-day break. But the water level is dropping. We’ve had .25…