It has been said that much can be determined about the character of a man by studying the way he treats animals.
It was a gray and dreary morning. Not much happening. Not much to spark the day. Until the phone rang.
My daughter Caroline is putting her driver’s permit to good use, always asking if there is any place I need to go, ever willing to drive me.
Just this past week, I once again had a meeting with school officials regarding Cort’s on-going struggle with his health and how that pertains to his education.
I am decidedly a country girl from way back, but I confess to one odd trait that makes me look like a city kid in the biggest way.
“You often think that if you listen to what other people or situations require, you are being passive, even subordinate.
There is nothing quite so delightful as a child at play, imagination at full mast, evoking our own childhood past.
One of the most interesting segments of time in American history is one that few youth of today know anything about.
“Why do we love to gaze on the blue canopy of the summer sky, the many-colored flowers of the spring, the beautiful faces of innocent children? Why do we love to listen to the symphony of the orchestra, the music of the mountain wind playing with the pine trees, the mighty voice of lonely waterfalls?
“When we were kids on the farm, long before the days of rural electrification, we owned a battery-powered Philco radio.