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.
I think I want to move.
Oh sure, I love the house, the property, the neighborhood, and the schools. All our friends are here and the dogs finally learned how to strew the trash about the yard in the most efficient manner.
The first political wisdom ever sent my way came from the gravelly throat of Everett Dirksen.
During Dirksen’s 1968 reelection stop in my southern Illinois hometown, I asked the white-maned Senate Minority Leader how he’d outflank Mayor Daley’s Chicago vote machine.
It hardly seems like two years have passed, but the registration brochures circulating for the Ohio Dairy Management Conference confirm that they have.
“You often think that if you listen to what other people or situations require, you are being passive, even subordinate.
I had no idea so much was riding on my mattress.
That is, until the down comforter on our bed sprang a leak.
Just before midnight Nov. 2, the empty Guinness cans in my kitchen sink rattled.
Two (of the three; there would be more later) fell.
When Rick Schnieders was 10, his first job was bagging potatoes at his father’s small grocery store in Iowa.
Miffed and mildly embarrassed, my high school senior, Jo, admitted one more time to friends at school that, as a little girl, her dad told her that tapioca was fish eggs.
Ask any three adults you know, I’m talking even the brilliant, highly educated ones. The ones who can’t even match their shoes or tuck in their shirts, they are that smart.