Something there is that makes things disappear, and then makes them reappear in unexpected places.
I’m glad some folks have reported recently that they’ve seen swarms of honey bees. I haven’t seen the first lone bee this spring, and I’ve been looking.
I just finished acting in a play at East Arkansas Community College. It’s something I do every chance I get. Wanting to be on stage is like a disease with me. I guess you could say I’m a ham that can’t be cured.
When should the quest for the perfect pot roast end, and one can say, “This is it. I’m happy?”
Okay, it rarely happens, but this is one of those times. Anyway, sorry folks, but there is absolutely nothing funny happening in the world today. Makes it hard if you’re supposed to be writing a column that attempts at humor.
At long last, I may have figured out how to make my fortune.
So, there I was, arriving back home after a quick trip to the store.
I remember it like it was yesterday. Well, it was almost yesterday – more like a couple of days ago. I was here at my computer. Alice was in the living room, but the computer room door was open, and I could hear her solving the puzzles on “Wheel of Fortune.” More about that later.
I can’t be precisely sure when it was, because I was very young. But at some point, I realized that milk was for baby cows, not people. At least, it was in the form that I was getting it – this white stuff that tasted icky.
I came in from a beautiful day in the 70s (F.) on Monday, and sat down at my computer. It didn’t take me long to be reminded that this time last year, it wasn’t much different, maybe a little cooler. However, on that particular day a year earlier than that, I was bewailing the loss of my ice scraper.