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Category Archives: Ann Arbor

Waste Not

Some ground rules: I’ve committed to collecting every piece of trashable, recyclable, or compostable waste I generate for a full week.

Choose Your Own Misadventure

Two important facts: first, there are two doors leading into this bathroom, one from the hallway and one from my housemate’s bedroom. Second, a deadbolt on the bathroom-hallway door allows it to be locked from the inside.

What’s Next, Mandolin Lessons?

I went vegetarian almost six years ago. It started as a refusal to put my money into the meat industry and, once I lost the taste for burgers and sausages, it turned into a permanent habit.

Mo Money

I decided to put my money where my mouth has been since I started touting the importance of small-scale local agriculture six years ago.

Tiny White Moments

Reaching through the grated door, I run a fingertip along the tiny white foreleg of a tiny white lamb curled on the straw inside. He slid into the world less than a week ago beside his glossy black sister.

Ricky

Since moving to Ann Arbor, I’ve encountered more panhandlers in two years than I’d seen in the preceding twenty-three. And every time, no matter how bedraggled or desperate they appear, I always truck right past.

A2, Part 2

A2, Part 2

by | Nov 17, 2015

But this town won’t be mine for much longer. Rent payments have nearly wiped out my savings, so in about a month, I’ll be moving into my aunt and uncle’s farmhouse forty-five minutes away.

Guerilla Composting

Guerilla Composting

By mindlessly pitching organic material into the garbage can, I’ve ever-so-slightly interrupted the cycle that sustains life on this planet: when one organism dies, its molecules get broken down and rebuilt into the next generation of organisms.

Hold the Door

Hold the Door

What if a Christian politician actually gave a Christian answer to the refugee question? Yes, the refugees are dusty and tired. Yes, they are desperate. Yes, we will let them in.

Extra! Extra! Read All About It!

Extra! Extra! Read All About It!

I raise a wistful glass to the days when neighborhood paper routes provided a bicycle-mounted kid’s first taste of financial independence.