Do you love your library? I do! When my family moved to Gettysburg twenty years ago, my wife pregnant and our daughter just two-years-old, the library was the first place we found community. It’s the place we met our first local friends, many of whom we still hang out with today. And my relationship with
While getting ready for work this morning, I turned to my wife and said. “I’ve got Da Do Ron Ron by the Crystals playing on loop in my brain.” She responded, “Well, that’s never good.” But I’m not so sure about that. I’m probably the only punk-rock aficionado who thinks this, but that song ROCKS.
Central Virginia, 1981, I rode shotgun-once-removed. JD sat in the front passenger seat due to his status as the driver’s roommate, I tucked in behind him for our three-hour trip. Scott drove us home for winter break. Scott, or Checks as we called him based on his propensity to bounce them, only stuck around that one year.
The chipmunk that lived in the downspout behind my back porch died last week. Tommy murdered it. Does that sound hyperbolic? Do cats commit murder? If he had any intention of eating it, I would say he killed it, but eating wasn’t part of the plan. He offed it for sport. He dropped it on