It occurs to me this will be the first year in decades that my family will not have a Christmas tree.
A year without a Christmas tree
It occurs to me this will be the first year in decades that my family will not have a Christmas tree.
What if I were to include in this column information on a bar in Wilton that serves minors, and after getting them drunk, uses them to create child pornography?
Locked down in the midst of a pandemic? Trying whiling away the hours in a conversation with your dead grandmother. That’s what I am doing. No, I haven’t taken leave of my senses. Well, not completely.
Okay, one more holiday season. For the first time ever, I turned over the meal preparations to my two daughters.
Even though I have been acquainted with the Internet for nearly 30 years, I’m still amazed by how content boomerangs around faster than you can say “Facebook.”
As soon-to-be “citizen” Trump rides off into the sunset, there has been much speculation about how he has changed politics forever, whether he will run again in 2024, how influential he will remain in the Republican Party, etc.
This week, I ambled away from cable news, the pandemic and the guy in the White House who appears to have set up permanent camp.
I was saddened but not surprised to hear that only about two-thirds of the folks who usually attend the Norwalk community Thanksgiving dinner stopped by Sunday to pick up a meal at this year’s drive-through event.
f you have been watching Channel 8 WKBT recently, you might have seen a familiar face, Brian Rude of Coon Valley.
Ah, in just two weeks, the election will grind its way to a merciful end. The presidential contest alone will have spent $5.8 billion.
Yes, friends, I am still here and above the sod. I am home from the hospital, driving my husband nuts and doing relatively well after my Covid-19 diagnosis.
My goodness, times have changed. I was reminded of that the other day when, as I was leaving Cashton on Highway 33, I noticed a Trump 2020 sign. This year, there are so many election signs that they tend to blend into the landscape.