Sunday, September 25, 2016

About the time I broke the cotton shackles of my mother's apron strings for the glorious freedom of my father's farm fields, a technology wave hit the southern Illinois farm of my youth.

Well, the bad news is that I can now officially call Mr. Wonderful "my old man." The good news is that I'd rather be poked with a hot stick than do so.

Are you a label reader? Probably not, unless you get bored when you are on "business" in the bathroom and you don't have Readers...

It would seem that summer has settled in for the long haul. Already the locust blossoms that saturated the sunlit afternoons and the evening breezes with their heady perfume have withered away and the orange blossoms have scattered their petals like snowflakes.

I hopped in my car early yesterday morning. My daughter Caroline had borrowed my car the day before, and left her music behind.

The Office of Inspector General at the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) has recommended EPA seek to recover nearly $25.

Any old parent can take a kid to Disney World. It takes a special kind of insanity to take a child on a vacation to a coal mine.

With not one entry sent in, my Prom On a $50 Budget contest bombed. Maybe the Farm and Dairy prizes I promised weren't enough incentive to take the trouble, or, maybe no one wanted to admit they spent so little on their prom.

I'm not the most frugal of individuals, but I'm by no means a spendthrift. Either way, I have little respect for things crossing my desk that strike me as a colossal waste of energy, time and money.

This is the season of celebration, and we are enjoying every minute of it. With high school graduation ceremonies behind us, we focused on hosting a party here to mark the occasion for our son and our daughter.
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