One of our undercover field reporters, a retired fighter pilot who prefers to be anonymous (can that be achieved on South Whidbey?) tipped this overinformed columnist of some big gossip overheard at the Community Thrift Store last week.
Given that tomorrow begins the world’s celebration of the Chinese New Year, let us honor the boars in our own lives as we join hands and hearts upon entering The Year of the Boar.
Please note that a “boar” or pig is not necessarily a bore.
Top of the morning, mates.
Or, if you are Down Under, where “mate” is more commonly used, bottom of the morning.
Please enjoy this Valentine’s remembrance shared with me by my family in honor of our beloved parents.
One of the benefits of being a licensed counselor is that I am able to penetrate the guise of my own emotions, subcutaneous my feelings, and then delve into my belief system.
Don’t you love the word “delve?”
Tomorrow night is my first book study group here at the caboose.
I’m just a little bit nervous, not that I have to speak seriously about a subject near and dear to my mind, but that I have to have the caboose bathroom clean enough for women.
Years ago, during one of our annual family gatherings in southern Missouri, (if locally grown, pronounced Miz-ur-ah), in the town of Thayer, once proud to be “The Feeder Pig Capital of the World,” our Aunt Rosie suggested a parlor game.
As the snow falls lightly on my non-cedars, I am enjoying the best Christmas gift my big brother Lew has ever gifted.
Are you sitting down?
Saint Augustine, one of the theological fountainheads of Reformation teaching on salvation and grace, is said to have said once that “The world is a book, and those who do not travel, read only a page.”
