Trump signs are thankfully MIA, and Biden signs are relatively rare, since this preference is assumed.
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Suprise Me
Signs of election times
Prompted By Buttons, Pins, and Badges
/ Stories
Trump signs are thankfully MIA, and Biden signs are relatively rare, since this preference is assumed.
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Article II, Section 1
Prompted By Quick Take: How Is This Still a Thing?
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The Democratic Party has won the popular vote in six of the last seven presidential elections, but lost the office of the President due to the Electoral College. The Electoral College has GOT to go! The framers of the Constitution had a population made up heavily of farmers, many of whom were illiterate and lived…
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The Dinner Party
Prompted By What My Mother Told Me
/ Stories
The Dinner Party I’ve written about my mother Jessie before and some of the things she’s told me – among them how to approach difficult tasks, and how to rectify mistakes made – and I try to heed her words. (See My Game Mother, Elbow Grease and Art Imitates Life) Jessie was a high school…
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Why I write
Prompted By Why We Write
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You Have Made A Difference
Prompted By Favorite Teacher
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Miss Garcelon decided, for whatever reason, that she was going to teach a bunch of six-year-olds about the human body.
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Fifty-Four Hours*
Prompted By Highways and Byways
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Excerpted from Rocked in Time, a work in progress.
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Outta the West!
Prompted By Summer of Love
/ Stories
We were going to a-go-go and the devil be damned.
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Demons of the Cracking Voice
Prompted By Lessons
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Tapestry
Prompted By Art’s Impact
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Tapestry A few years ago my husband’s college roommate Ken invited us to join him on a trip to Normandy. I had a bit of a hassle replacing my missing travel documents, but eventually all was resolved. (See The Purloined Passport) We flew first to Paris where we visited with family and friends, then rented…
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It’s My Party and I’ll Cry if I Want To
Prompted By Parties
/ Stories
I love parties! I almost always have a great time at them. Certainly college parties are among my fondest memories of those years. But for me, the good ones don’t seem to make for interesting stories. So here’s a story about the worst party of my life. 1966. The drinking age in New Jersey was…
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