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Writing can be a lot like chewing with your mouth open. Downright disgusting, especially if there is too much falling out of your mouth. Lately, I've been reviewing some of my columns, paring them down, preparing to launch them into the mysterious stratosphere via a blog. More ... It's been in our family album for years: Probably since the summer of 1941 when Daddy pasted the black and white photo on the porous black pages of the brown leather-covered book. Three young children are sitting on a log at the shoreline of a river. More ... |
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