Last year, almost exactly 12 months ago, I laid a burden at your feet. You didn’t ask for it, but I could no longer lift the weight of my son’s absence alone.
There are five children running around the home of Christina and Kevin Magnaghi, ranging from preteen to preschooler.
Today I am unexpectedly filled with a need to talk about my village. The one I grew up in and returned to 20 years later — kicking and screaming, but that didn’t last past the first year.
The afternoon is chilly, verging on frosty. I’ll leave work soon and head home to cook dinner. On the menu are sauteed mushrooms, mashed cauliflower — my latest drug of choice — and a green salad.
I am writing this in October, the official month of all things pink. You know, the color of breast cancer awareness. And store shelves were completely pinked out well before October, as if buying pink merchandise is the only answer to the problem.
Readers, do you know what time it is? It’s time for another chat with eldest daughter, known best as MacMama.
Polly called. She rarely does, so when it happens, I listen. She hated to ask a favor, she said, but there’s a dog in trouble, and could I help? “I’ve tried everything I can think of. Maybe you can get the word out.”
It started in my bedroom, under the creaky, scarred wooden desk.
The afternoon was a scorcher when Joe Young looked out his window onto Gray Lynn Drive at the south end of Walla Walla earlier this summer.
A funny thing happened to Camo Man and me on our way to our first anniversary. We didn’t make it.
It goes by a few names — classic shaving, wet shaving, extreme shaving. Traditional. Manly.
Bill Gray is one lucky man. There’s no other way to explain the recent unearthing of his wedding ring that had gone missing for more than 50 years.
While our country anticipates the red, white and hoopla of the Fourth of July, Mary Jennings’ family is running strong toward July 3.
The morning in late May was breezy, the pink flags of Gesa Power House Theatre billowing briskly at just past 6:30 a.m. For a few coffee-deprived minutes, I second-guessed my decision to be at the Valley Transit transfer station so early in the day.
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