A Hermit Retreat

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When you consider the standard stereotype associated with people that declare themselves to be a 'Hermit', it is a bit oxymoronic to suggest that such a person would go on a vacation into...

Being A Kid Is A State Of Mind

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The state of affairs in the New World Order of pandemic pandemonium has, in no small way, altered the very fabric of human existence. All the nooks and little crannies of day-to-day life bring...

The COVID-19 School Of Higher Learning

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It's fair to say that change is not always pleasant or welcome in life, especially when it is forced upon us - in many cases - against our will. There can be no greater...

COVID-19 & The Death Of A Furtive Way Of Life

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The greatest things in life are the ones nobody else is doing.

Perception v. Reality

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So Begins the category I have lovingly named "Hattie Matters" in honor of this gray little bundle of love and terror that came into mine and Daisy's life in October of 2018. My great-grandmother's name,...

A Beached Hermit

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As I write this, the temperatures outside hover in the 20s and 30s and the ground is covered with a thin layer of snow and ice.

Of Poignance & Bucket Lists

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It's interesting how seemingly casual, light-hearted conversations can sometimes take on lives of their own and wind up in places that were never intended. I suppose it happens often enough to be no great...

A Tricky Tricycle Caper

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My birthday came and went a few weeks ago, quietly and with little fanfare as birthdays should be once you have fallen headlong into your twilight years. And, the older I get the more...

Channeling Sweet Baby James

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When I arrived at the spot where I would have to await the transfer, I was amazed by how much snow the city plows had pushed up, over, and around the waiting area. The snow bank must have been three or four feet deep and would have otherwise rendered the bus stop useless save for the brave soul that had carved out enough of it to be able to get inside and away from the wind. I began to wind myself up. I started bitching out loud about the utter lack of care or concern, on the part of the city, over how important it was to provide safe access to city services for those of us out here that rely so heavily on them. And just about the time I had worked out my “flaming hate letter” to the new mayor in my head, Sweet Baby James started singing in my ear :