A few years ago, I drowned a very large rat in a trashcan of runoff from the roof. We had caught it in the garage where it had been happily chewing through grain bags and enlarging the small opening under the garage doors to make coming and going easier. The garage was its palace, a…

Sometime during this long cold winter, Lisa, my Yaqui traveler friend, called me up and asked, “well, are the bees gone?” She was referring to the distinct image/sensation I had during a couple pipe ceremonies last fall that the tumor was an agitated beehive, and that the smoke from the pipe was lulling them, calming…