Saturday, December 10, 2016

I am always on the look-out for new books on Lyme disease. Most are scientifically-based and might offer a glimmer of hope through new treatment options within the medical world.

Driving in to town one day late this summer, a warning light came on in my little yellow VW Beetle. I knew just where to go to have it checked out.

Ever since the summer day that Channing arrived on our farm, things have seemed a little brighter around here.

The final round of hay has been put up, and the colorful leaves have blown free from our majestic old trees.

Baseball, to me, is still the great American pastime. So many of my memories from childhood revolve around playing baseball in the side yard with my sisters and brother or fielding a team with lots of cousins in the wide open grassy area near my Aunt Dee's pond.

The next afternoon after this tragedy, a beautiful autumn day, I was pleasantly surprised to come home and find our little Amish neighbor girls, Anna and Lizzie, here in our back yard, picking up walnuts as we had told them they were welcome to do.

Tragedy. The nerve-jarring news of any school tragedy is difficult to take in. But the horror in an Amish school house in a bucolic part of the world where violence is nonexistent proved to be more than we could grasp.

The lyrics of the old song made popular by the soothing voice of Eddy Arnold have spun through my head numerous times during this past week as news reports brought the horrific news of yet another school shooting in our homes.

The more things change, the more they stay the same. Since our move this past summer, I now live much closer to my sister Debi.

I have often thought the study of science ought to be fun. Mostly, the subject of science in the classroom feels, to the majority of students, like drudgery and boring recitation of facts.
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