Welcome to this website, a work in progress. If you would like to view my blogs, please go to Blue Collar Author Blog. A section on my books is also planned. Frankly, I’m a bit befuddled by the new WordPress format. You get used to one thing and they change it on you. Progress? You sometimes have to wonder.

by the woodpile 3

“A man always looks at his woodpile with affection.” Did Henry David Thoreau say that?

That freshly fallen and piled alder–with which I’m so pleased–was ready to season, in fall of 2014. Unfortunately, by summer of 2015, with the wood now dried and stacked in the shed, the cabin for which I was caretaker got sold. I wasn’t part of the sale, so somebody else got to burn the wood over this past winter.

As with writing , one can take satisfaction in having an effort appreciated by someone else. But the analogy doesn’t quite hold up. On this chilly Saturday morning in April, 2016, how I would love to be in that cabin, cooking pancakes on the stove top, in the pervasive warmth of last year’s alder! When someone reads and appreciates your writing, it doesn’t get used up. Unlike firewood.


cabin spring, 2015

That cabin–with Bellingham Bay and Mt. Baker looming out front, and stands of alder and birch and cottonwood and Sitka spruce in back–was a great place for writing. And thinking. And cutting wood and growing tomatoes and potatoes and watching bald eaglesĀ and blue herons and the less-glorified smaller birds. And gathering driftwood for the fireplace. Thoreau had misgivings when he installed an iron stove to supplant the open-hearth fireplace. My cabin had both. And a covered front porch to view the bay and mountains in all weather. And there was no TV. Or internet.

0825141203-00cabin stove 2

the stove


To any visitor to these pages–I hope you enjoy the Blue Collar Author blogs. If you like them, check out my books, available from Village books, Fairhaven, and from Amazon. There should be more in the not-too-distant future. I’m hoping some of my writing is infused with the serenity and inspiration gleaned from that little cabin. Warmed by the stove and fireplace.


the fireplace