
Walkin’ the blues away
With just enough ice to support her twenty-three pounds, she came running down a hill becoming airborne, her beagle ears flapping in the wind. Continue reading Walkin’ the blues away
With just enough ice to support her twenty-three pounds, she came running down a hill becoming airborne, her beagle ears flapping in the wind. Continue reading Walkin’ the blues away
My dad’s sister Mary had a parakeet named Rembrandt. An artist, of Irish descent and pretty enough to have modelled, … Continue reading Joining the old scholar’s club