I sing the praises of my small charcoal grill that defines homecoming for my godsons Nelson and Will (and me) on their cross-country visits. No longer young apprentices, these now early twenty-somethings commandeer the operation. Nothing intervenes—snow, sleet, rain, nor my occasional (faint) reluctance. Our love renews as the corn turns.
Read More
stay, Valentine, stay / No Kings rally end of March / strength grows in numbers
remember their names: Everlasting Poetry—Renée Good / Intensive Care—Alex Pretti