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Rick Ryckeley's blog

Writer's block

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Writer’s block

I knew one day it would happen. After 14 years and over 700 columns, something that strikes fear into this writer has finally arrived at our house: Writer’s block.

World's wealthiest man

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I limped into my annual physical yesterday, and my answers to a few of the doctor’s questions left him shaking his head. Don’t worry; this story really isn’t about my physical. It’s about Briarwood High School, home of the Mighty Buccaneers. So how do you connect the two?

Soapbox goes to D.C.

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Last week, the soapbox traveled to the council meeting in our zombie-infested small town. I went along too. After all, someone had to carry the soapbox and fight off all those slow moving non-thinkers: the zombies — not the council members.

Mayor and council

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Once again I had to venture down to the dusty basement, fight off hordes of spider crickets and retrieve my soapbox. So what had me willing to risk my life to stand upon my soapbox and pontificate?

Monster of Twin Lakes

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It was truly an odd place for a little brown duck to be — on top of the green metal roof of the log cabin positioned on a hill overlooking Twin Lakes. Then again, maybe it wasn’t so odd. After all, I’m not a little brown duck.

Back to school guidance

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At 3 o’clock, the last school bell rang, releasing all of us to the best time of the year, summer vacation. Less than an hour later, all the kids from Flamingo Street were enjoying the first water balloon battle of the summer, even Bully Brad.

Robby the Robot

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Two amazing things happened at our house Tuesday morning, and oddly, both concerned space travel. For those out there in reader land, the first will interest the science geek in all of you. And what of the second incident?

A familiar stranger

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So how do you thank the person who saved your life? Guess if you were a singer you’d sing a song about them. I’m not a singer.

If you were well off, you’d reward them with money and shower them with gifts. I’m far from being well off. I’m just a simple writer.


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For those of you out there in readers-land who simply love living in a big house, there is a single word that can have you curled up in a ball on the floor crying. Downsizing.

A liizard's perspective

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The blue and black striped lizard started to worry. Directly on the other side of the glass was what he feared most: the little boy. About 8 years old, the boy with pudgy fingers was tapping on the glass right underneath the lizard’s orange belly. His sister stood next to him making faces.


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