Post 27: Flat Is Beautiful

January 14 was my mother’s birthday. If she hadn’t died too young, at age 74, she would have been 105. (Somewhere there’s a scumbag who made it that far, I’m sure. That guy with the hood and scythe can be so unfair.) So I’m thinking of her. I’m thinking of the family vacations we tookContinue reading “Post 27: Flat Is Beautiful”