Me and Norman Bates
Hey, I’m no purist. Maybe I should be–after all, I’ve been a classroom teacher for my whole life, an English teacher too. I’ve every right
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Hey, I’m no purist. Maybe I should be–after all, I’ve been a classroom teacher for my whole life, an English teacher too. I’ve every right
On a plane, I’m a reader not a talker. In fact, I rather resent jabberers, warm-hearted folks, I’m sure, who make it their mission
I don’t believe I will ever sing “Blessed Assurance” without thinking of my father. He never mentioned that hymn as being among his top ten
This is yesterday afternoon, a gorgeous February Sabbath, and that’s my grandson writing a message in the light snow on the Floyd River with the
When my master’s program was over, I wasn’t enamored with graduate school, and I rather missed the high-maintenance life of a high school teacher. My
I showed them this old picture, something the turn-of-the century on the Rosebud, most of the kids outfitted in blankets, traditional garb. We talked about
It wasnt’ deja vu exactly. I know that phenomenon, the distinct feeling that time and place is being strangely replicated; you’re somehow sure you stood in
I’m not unaccustomed to traveling, but yesterday, like a thousand times before, I came up on a huge strip of truck tire, something peeled from
It should come as no surprise that death creates some unlikely bedfellows. Up here, up the hill, sworn enemies share a morning pot of coffee.
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