It begins:
It’s a good year when I read 10 books – histories mostly. Much to my wife’s chagrin I buy real ones to stain with yellow markers rather than the digital kind that disappear into one’s pocket or purse. Continue reading
And the week before which I neglected to post here and which a fellow my age from Church told me he read but didn’t quite know what to say about:
It begins:
The headline is a bit of an overstatement. My mother prepared me for manhood when I came crying to her by telling me that her Father didn’t cry when he was shot. But that bit of machismo was more than offset by what she told me through the seven years she waited to give birth to a daughter and the following seven waiting for the real daughter to be old enough to learn women’s lore. Continue reading
