Welcome!
Lashley Lane, or parts of it, has been a pen name of mine over the years. I treasured my life on that little street. I was safe and cherished and nurtured, imprinted with good memories. We are way Beyond that now but the influence of those early years is embedded deeply.
I’ll be remembering real life and musing about this and that from the past, present, and future. I remain fiercely loyal to the ideal of family and friends being redeemable just as you and I are redeemable, so you’ll just have to trust me with occasional details as I honor privacy. Above all, please realize my Christian point of view. I only hope it will be obvious.
Be sure to click on the navigation bar to find your way around. Happy reading!
LATEST POSTS
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Turbulence, T-Shirt Tags, and Trains
International air travel. An acquired taste. The few places I’ve ventured to out of my home country can be counted on one hand — at least I think they can. Let’s see. England, Scotland, France, Monaco, Italy, Ukraine, and Ecuador. Oh, wait. Mexico and Canada. And I did not fly to those two. And clearly
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Hot Tea with Cream and Sugar
During my childhood in times of distress, illness, worry, or just general agitation I could count on two things from my mother — a warm washcloth to the face and a steaming cup of tea with cream and sugar. You have your stuff. I have mine. To this day my blood pressure lowers a dozen
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Donkey Kong New Year
Back when social media was more fun and frolic than politics and pandemic, there were a few words written by a younger me (subtract 10 from what you think I am now) on straight-up Facebook, not buried in a blog. I’ll put them here just for fun but you’re excused to skip over and go
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O Christmas Tree
It’s easy to blame 2020 for many a habit or “quirk” as I like to call them, but if we’re honest, a few of those tendencies were already firmly established before this year rolled around and we’d best just own up to it. Yes, I speak of myself. You’re off the hook. I have a
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This Is Now
Around the time that first memories were becoming solid and not just fleeting images of grandmas and old houses and smells and scenes, I can remember a Thanksgiving in Houston, Texas at my Great Uncle Clyde and Aunt Juanita’s house. We’d traveled there from Colorado and when I crawled into my lovingly prepared cot at
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‘Til It’s Gone
I appreciate a good 2020 joke as much as the next guy. My kids and I zing ’em back and forth within text and messenger threads–“Say, did you hear this one?”– most every day. And 2020 is no longer just the name of a year. It’s an outright adjective for whatever’s run amok. “That’s so
Beyond Lashley Lane 