The Craftsman

My grandfather, Taft Rakes, was a woodworker. No, that’s doesn’t come close to doing him justice. He was a craftsman. He could take beautiful, raw pieces of cherry and pine and oak and create pure art. My mom’s house is dotted with the work of his hands: an incredible dining room table, 8 ladderback rush-seated … More The Craftsman

Pressing On

I wrote about Moving On, and yet I keep getting pulled back. Sometimes it’s others, sometimes it’s me. Maybe “pressing on” is a better way to look at it? The ol’ dog returning to his vomit isn’t always as cut and dry as we think. Sometimes, the stuff you should be avoiding isn’t as unappealing … More Pressing On

Moving On

When I’m driving around the Oklahoma hinterlands, I often find myself thinking about the settlers that crossed the plains on their way to a “better life out west.” Those folks didn’t have cell phones or the internet to keep them connected to home. They didn’t have easy travel. When they left, it was like a … More Moving On