Yes, it all happened casually, without much thought. I’m sitting in my hairdresser’s (stylist’s) chair, talking about how much I wish I could still wear big, hoop earrings, when she says, “Well, get another ear piercing and you can.” How? Whatever did she mean?
Her assistant overhears and says, “Oh yeah, just put it higher up on the ear. And by the way, if you go, I want to go and let’s get our nipples pierced.” (God, I hope my granddaughter is not reading this).
The Mayor of Little Rock, Arkansas, Mr. Frank Scott, is an excellent orator. If you get an opportunity to hear him speak, take it. He is a former minister and the son of a Baptist preacher…need I say more?
As Bill Clinton walked on to the stage at the Arkansas Democrat Gazette’s 200th anniversary celebration, I fretted. He’s thin, gray haired and slow moving, so I worried about his cognitive function.
As the audience awaited on bated breath, the 42nd President of the United States acted relaxed as he took his sweet time at the podium, opening his notes, looking out at the audience, and then finally beginning his oration.
It is hard to believe that last week we celebrated the 10th Annual Dancing Into Dreamland with a Tournament of Champions.
Last summer, Mrs. Elm got some bad news; she was diagnosed with incurable Dutch Elm disease. I was crushed at her prognosis and wrote about it in an earlier blog post. In that post, I professed that there are many unexplained miracles and cures that happen every day and, if there’s no scientific cure for Mrs. Elm, then it is time to move to plan B–a miracle. To enlist a miracle, you must have hope, faith, prayer, and ritual.
