Mutalahti By Alexi Currier One of the golden gifts we seniors get to unwrap in our Christmastide quiet is the gift of memories. Allow me a moment to share one. Come away with me to Finland, to a remote village, on the shore of a lake, deep in the endless forests. The other shore
An Old Man’s Musings By Alexsi Currier I was that old gringo geezer on the Malecon bench gazing out over the lake with the cell phone lying in my cupped hands. I couldn’t remember how to use the phone. I was in a grumpy mood. I wanted to ask you to help me but
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Grandpa’s Coin By Alexsi Currier Grandpa’s coin purse came from the leather maker’s shop on the corner of Engle Strasse, in our little Black Forest village. When he flipped the shovel-like cover open and let the coins spill into it, an inside flap and pouch was revealed. This Spring I was with him
