I developed a deeper appreciation for the expression “low-hanging fruit” when we went on an apple-picking expedition with our grandsons the other day.
Or perhaps I should say, a taller appreciation.
I developed a deeper appreciation for the expression “low-hanging fruit” when we went on an apple-picking expedition with our grandsons the other day.
Or perhaps I should say, a taller appreciation.
Typically, a trip to the riverfront in Washington, MO, is an altogether pleasant affair – particularly when I’m in the company of my dear 92-year-old Mom.
Something tells me, this particular golf ball does NOT conform to USGA specifications.
It was a lovely night for listening to the blues.
Interesting: Grover seems to have invaded a corner of my “home office” space.
We didn’t exactly breach the Gates of the Netherworld yesterday, but at least we delivered a good solid rap on the door. Continue reading
As lawbreakers go, I am decidedly a third-rate scofflaw.
One thing you notice, when out on the Sea of Galilee, is that conditions change quickly. In just a heartbeat, the sea’s glassy surface can turn choppy – and suddenly you’re surrounded by whitecaps.
Boy, did I blow my chances to display a little thoughtfulness today.
Lingering ever-so-pleasantly in our kitchen this morning: the enticing aroma of homemade Monster Cookies…