There’s a right way and a wrong way to do everything, or so the theory goes.
Gridlock. Analysis paralysis. Homeostasis. Standing still. Status quo. Whatever you call it, there’s a lot of it going around.
Words are the currency of pretty much everything we do. Even our currency has words on it, for crying out loud.
A couple of days ago I heard a couple of old guys talking over a diner table.
What kind of an old man or woman do you want to be?
Some people are about the having, and others are about the searching.
It’s a little maddening, having a bird outside my window who mimics the chirp of my front door alarm.
I won’t let my plum tree go without a fight.
Summer’s here and the time is right to be bitchin’ ’bout the heat.
I’m not sure whether my childhood infatuation with flying things is nature, nurture, or both.