It was her annual trip...
...when in an elevator she had traveled in over half her life, she pointed to the worn patch of wood and said, "This is still here."
After dinner the missing of mothers drifted into words.
I looked up.
What was still here was how certain nights still felt like Florence if she were a New York evening.
So we wandered and looked at what was still here.
My Own Personal Little Nut Hut! Plus: Lunch @ Something 2 Taco ‘Bout And A Stop @ The Nut House - [image: 1a. toptitle_may23-18.jpg] *I had a nice surprise the other week when I was doing a segment on Good Day Central Illinois. I thought the segment wa...
17 hours ago