Monday, August 29, 2016

The thing I love about political season is … nothing. Not a single blessed thing. How is this possible?

We’ve all seen — and sometimes shunned — them.

The accident happened, as these things always do, simultaneously fast and oh-so-slow.

You would think someone who loves eating and all things relating to food as much as I do would be nuts about lunch.

Picking ear corn was an historical time.

I like about writing for public consumption. This is opposed to, say, how I started out which was just forcing these missives on my grandmothers who are contractually obligated to find me fascinating.

Ah fall. The season when all of nature attempts to move indoors.

Summer, as we know it, has come and gone.

One of the many benefits of being a writer is that my commute is short. (I gained 7 pounds the year I got a laptop and no longer had to walk all the way to the third floor to write).

’Tis the season when most public schools begin a new academic year.
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