The Eastern New Mexico News - Serving Clovis, Portales and the Surrounding Communities

The Dad came up in conversation this past week, again. Since he daily dances through my mind, it isn’t a big leap to find him in a conversation. This time, it wasn’t because of a funny Dad story;...

I had a serious flashback a few days ago. I’m not sure how Facebook “knows” things, but Bob Dylan’s song, “The Times They Are a Changin’,” (1964) popped up on my timeline. Maybe it’s...

So long, 2018. You were a tough one, taking The Dad from this world to the next. While there were many lovely things that happened throughout the year, that one event has changed me. Permanently. I...

I have a date with a nearly 5-year-old kiddo, my nephew Gavin. We are kicking off the holiday by watching “Elf” on the big screen. Rounding out this group of elf-watchers is Gavin’s mom, and...

Like most of the rest of the world, I was horrified when a man entered the Tree of Life Synagogue in Pittsburgh, shot and killed 11 people and wounded others. Squirrel Hill is labeled as one of the... Full story

Sometimes, you just need to see the world through the eyes of a 4-year-old. Recently, we met up with my 4-year-old nephew, Gavin, and his Nana Della for dinner. While we waited to be seated, we...

I have a love/hate relationship with mosquitoes. They love me (apparently, I’m delicious) and I hate them. Weather allowing, we begin each day at Head Acres on the front stoop, coffee in hand,...

My 4-year-old nephew Gavin picked out my toenail polish. I’m sporting a rather shocking, glaring pink polish. I’ve told people not to look directly at my toes, because they’ll go blind from the...

Onion rings did me in. Sitting in a local eatery, I skimmed over onion rings on the menu, and flashed to my dad. Cue the waterworks. I am not sure which was more difficult, trying to keep the tears...

Playing in the dirt is good for the soul. The past several days have been a blur of activity at Head Acres. We have pulled weeds, dodged some nasty looking bugs, and ran screaming from some pretty...

The silence is deafening. We lost my dad, Tom Dobson, on April 11. He was 80 years old, and filled with the same impish spirit that day, just like he was for his entire time on earth. He was ready. We...

Worry is a beast. I grapple with the monster daily. I sweat the small stuff. The medium stuff. The big stuff. If there were a way to cram more in the cracks between the small, medium and big stuff,...

I’m a big fan of Mr. Rogers. As a kid, I thought he was a wise and kind man. As an adult, I still think he was a wise and kind man. And he wore a cardigan well. I believe in the power of kindness....

Are you ready for the … Souperbowl? Souperbowl of Caring had a humble beginning, back in 1990 at Spring Valley Presbyterian Church in Columbia, South Carolina. Under the guidance of a seminary...

Sometimes, words fail. It’s messy and uncomfortable when the words we generally find so much comfort in fail us … or fail a situation. And at times, there are no words to adequately express how...

The holidays can bring out the best — and worst — in people. By people, I mean me. And by worst, I mean one goofy move after another. All in the name of perfection. Perfection is a double-edged sw...

Sometimes, it’s the little things that make the biggest impression. I had an unexpected, yet welcome, surprise one recent week. A few of them, actually. As it turns out, each of these surprises...

In recent weeks, we’ve seen hurricanes, floods, fires and other assorted misfortunes. All catastrophic to be sure. Yet, in the midst of these events, we see people shine. It takes a village. The wor...

Sometimes, there are no answers. No matter how hard we try to figure things out or to understand, we simply can’t answer the “why” behind things that happen. Because we’re of the human...

August is “Celebrate 80 Years of Tom Dobson” month. Well, at least it is in my house. My dad, who is a fighter in every sense of the word, will turn 80 on Aug. 31. In normal circumstances, this...

Grief is a fickle beast. It’s a lot like the ocean creeping back during high tide. There’s an ebb and flow; one minute the sea is calm, and the next you’re engulfed. There isn’t a right or...

Sometimes the past sneaks up on you, in all its bittersweet glory. As a fresh-behind-the-ears adult, I lived at Edwards Air Force Base in California. I was incredibly homesick, lonely and missed my...

My dad has the heart of a warrior. I have been reminded of that throughout my life with him; we’re talking decades. He has had more than one doctor say he’s a medical miracle. When each medical...

It’s an odd time of year, that space between winter and spring. Heavy. Dreary. Sleepy. Cold. My garden, usually the go-to place to dig, to think things through, to “be” in creation, is dark....

I believe in the goodness of people. Even now when the world seems flipped on its axis, the goodness of people shines through the darkness. The view from the cheap seats is pretty good. Case in...