Sunday, April 23, 2017

I am the mother I warned myself about. In all those blissful early years of having children (babies, really), I had big plans to do very little.

The four-color photo on the front page of the local daily paper immediately caught my eye, but not with a reaction the editors desired.

Decisions! Decisions! Which of more than a dozen jottings gets the lead paragraph for this column? And suddenly, Mother Nature makes the decision with a dazzling offering on the sunny last day of summer as a friend and I admired the just-mowed pasture.

My voice echoed in my daughter's half-empty room when I called out to Mark, "Yes, I think we've packed everything.

When my son was just a little shaver, he came home from school one day, his big blue eyes sparkling, and said, "Mom, I have a new best friend! Can I invite my friend to come and stay overnight?" Cort knew about overnight visits from his older cousins, who always had extra kids around, their homes filled with fun and games and laughter.

NOTE: Below is the first of a two columns on a now-collapsing, multimillion-dollar farmer-owned cooperative.

Lots of headlines dampen the ethanol euphoria by proclaiming we'll be paying more for our food. After all, there's only so much corn to go around.

Planning a float for a parade is no small task. My women's club borrowed a 6-by-8 wooden trailer that would be towed by a Suburban.

As summer fades to autumn, if there is time in your day to pick up a good book, I recommend Heart In The Right Place, a newly published memoir written by Carolyn Jourdan.

In response to a tidal wave of tainted imported food and consumer goods hitting America this summer, President George W.
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