Sunday: It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas... The tune lilts through my head as I look around the house, but while there is probably a tree in the grand hotel, and while friends have been
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Sunday... 7:29 am. I'm still curled up in bed, asleep enough to be dreaming, when the phone goes off. I don't check it, letting the caller go to voicemail. I snuggle back into the
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My commute to the office usually takes about twenty-five minutes. It's two-lane, country driving the entire way along one of the Illinois' River Roads. My landmarks as I drive are a railroad
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I just found hay in my hair, a memento from the time I spent in the horse field this afternoon lying on my back in what remained of a round bale. It's sixty degrees. Just a few days ago, there was
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I forgot to step tall over the hot wire. I felt my rubber muck boot catch the bottom wire of the horse fence. My ankle caught the strand that I had strung there this summer. My knees hit the
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I was scrolling through the calendar on my phone, looking for an appointment I couldn't remember making, when I scrolled across a repeating reminder. "Anniversary" It made my stomach drop to be
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"No one can tell what goes on in between the person you were and the person you become. No one can chart that blue and lonely section of hell. There are no maps of the change. You just come out
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Let me be crystal clear: I didn't NEED any more chickens. Cluckingham Palace is currently home to 11 laying chickens, 1 lavender turkey hen, and, of course, Arthur of Camelot. I currently
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Kahn was someone's house cat once. I'm almost sure of it. Feral cats don't come to humans to ask for help, which is just what he was doing when he and I first met. It was the coldest, darkest
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I know. I know. That phrase usually belongs to Christmas, and I love Christmas, but whoever first coined that phrase and applied it to Christmastime obviously didn't know the joys of springtime