When I am running, left pulling ahead of right pulling ahead again and again and a gain faster than I think I can, my stomach is empty.
Author Archives: Garrick van Buren
My Breath is the Wind
My breath is the wind and my body a cloud pushed through a clear summer sky ever faster, ever steadier, ever calmer, ever easier.
Resorting Taxonomy Listing by Meta_Value
To sort a taxonomy in the front end by a meta_value put this in your theme: $terms = apply_filters( ‘get-terms’, array(‘taxonomy’=> ‘TAXONOMY_TO_REORDER’, ‘meta_key’ => ‘YOUR META_VALUE KEY’,’orderby’ => ‘meta_value’, ‘order’ => ‘DESC’)); To sort a taxonomy in the admin view by a meta_value put this in your functions.php: add_action(‘get_terms_args’, ‘custom_get_terms_args’, 1, 2); function custom_get_terms_args($args, $taxonomies) …
All There Is
Back in 2008, I received a half pound of George Howell’s Terroir Coffee: El Salvador: Finca La Montaña. This particular coffee won the Cup of Excellence the prior year and then – the plantation was completely wiped out by near hurricane strength winds. Gone. The half pound in my possession, in the middle of winter …
Make Mountains into Milestones
I recently returned from four refreshingly long days in Lutsen along the beaches of Lake Superior’s north shore. The weather was warm and calm enough to spend one of the mornings in a kayak. After scooting along the shoreline, our tour guide led us out in to the lake, far enough out that the shore …
Water Mischief
Liquid breath laughs laps against a stoney shore rebounding into a path of cobblestone glass tempting us to an unwritten horizon.
Awaiting
The still shoreline a patient sawblade the color of spent charcoal and spilled blood. Miles away a lonely lighthouse.
Laffer Curves in Everything
What if you knew that applying more effort would only make things worse? How would you proceed? Would you heed the warning? Would you stop? Or would you continue applying effort blind to the deteriorating results? I achieved burn out by expecting outsized results from an ever heroic effort. At the time, I didn’t know …
Flat
sloppy, cold rain drops drop a parking lot of glaring headlights onto my glasses as I warily kick the arm of a reluctant lug wrench in brand new flip flops.
Unwanted Tomorrow
Traffic lights count down to car horns complaining over the smallest delay. Miles of rope protect the greenness of the park’s grass from leaving on skinned knees. Fountains are emptied of water, of pennies, of hopes, of delight. The children are in a darkened museum, next to extinct birds and mammals, tapping unresponsive touch screens.