Something about photons
Because I had an upcoming performance on the calendar, I went as usual to see the guy who cuts my hair, Baron.
Because I had an upcoming performance on the calendar, I went as usual to see the guy who cuts my hair, Baron.
There are times in one's life that a moment of clarity pings between the ears and registers…
‘What the hell am I doing?’
As much as I was prepared for the 2:20pm FEMA and FCC emergency Alert System for my cellphone (as well as radio and television), it didn’t prevent my head flying through the sunroof of my truck when it went off.
It should be said that prior to this test, my truck didn’t have a sunroof.
Well, you know I love this stuff so how could I ignore the catchy headline of an article in The Jerusalem Post detailing a fascinating carving in a temple in India? It appears that the carving is of a mustached man, wearing traditional Indian garb, riding a bicycle.
Oh, and the temple is 2,000 years old.
It started with a seemingly innocuous little sneeze from our 16 year old cat, Tippy, whom we’ve had since a rescued kitten. And then, as happens in a household of children, an upper respiratory infection spread like wildfire through all five cats, despite being vaccinated for everything and living indoors.
If checking our smart phones is the most addictive thing in the world, I’m willing to bet that the second is finishing mowing ones yard...
I can still hear you.
Each morning, before the dawn breaks and the world still belongs to the inhabitants of the woods and fields, I hear your soft nicker.
Honestly,” I remarked to Paul while putting away groceries (oh, alright, a six-pack) after a trip to the store, “whatever happened to Southern hospitality? All I did was tell the cashier I had correct change, and she nearly bit my head off.”
Reading a recent survey about what married couples fight about the most was quite revealing to me. It seems recurring fights about money, chores and parenting styles often lead to recurring arguments that take a toll on a relationship.
Two Fjords have taken up residence at the Funny Farm—not the long, narrow Norwegian inlet of water, but rather, the small, hardy ponies from the same northern European address.
But oh, how much more they represent.
317 Trade Street Greer, SC 29651
Phone: 1-864-877-2076