Events that Leave A Mark

We had certain rules. I don't remember too many, but we had them. Never play with play-doh at home, it got messy. When father whistled, we came running. No food on the new vehicle. And when I was growing up, my mother would keep us out of the living room. This was especially true when... Continue Reading →

Bird Poop On My Shoulder

So I was tagged, marked, bombed, or pooed on. Is pooed a word? It is now. Somewhere between Granny Bees and the 4Runner, a wonderful aviary citizen of Appomattox let it be known I was walking in their turf. I did not even know it until later I looked in the mirror and saw the... Continue Reading →

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