Saturday, January 17, 2026

I was kicking around the idea of writing about all the questionable things our parents did to and with us as children and calling together a support group of sorts.

My Sunday paper's weekend magazine says, "Cancel your plans, unplug the phone and rev up that Tivo." The month of May has become the big finale season for TV entertainment.

When the weather breaks (hopefully as this article is written) literally tons of hay will go down across Ohio.

When biofuel promoters begin to extol the virtues of ethanol, it's sometimes difficult to determine if their excitement is powered by corn-based fuel or corn-based liquor.

Remember when high school prom was just a sweet little rite of passage? This, of course, was back before parents as a whole just went ahead and lost their minds.

We were talking about school policies. Kathie described to me a school assembly about bullying with an impatient resentment.

On May 8, Secretary of Agriculture Mike Johanns took the Bush administration's first formal step toward the 2007 farm bill.

As May unfolds and Mother's Day was celebrated once again, I found myself thinking just what it means to be a mom.

Please do NOT call Children's Services on me. Despite what you may think (and what scientific evidence may have proven), exposure to the soundtrack from Saturday Night Fever does not actually constitute child abuse.
Bread baking takes practice!

I don't remember when I made my first cake or when my mother first gave me advice about cooking. As for my early experiences with baking, I remember the 4-H project on breads and pastries that I worked on the summer I was 7.