I sing the praises of my small charcoal grill that defines homecoming for my godsons Nelson and Will (and me) on their cross-country visits. No longer young apprentices, these now early twenty-somethings commandeer the operation. Nothing intervenes—snow, sleet, rain, nor my occasional (faint) reluctance. Our love renews as the corn turns.
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The beauty of human hands. Hearing is believing. His fingers and voice in flight, guitarist Lindsey Buckingham vows that he’s “Never Going Back Again.” Hey now, enough, he reiterates, “been down one time / been down two time.” Haven’t we been down one time, now two times, too? Want to find out what it means to win? “Yeahhhhhhhh.” Stevie Nicks blends her voice with Buckingham’s. Yeah.
hints that springtime nears
democracy calls our names
as we swim birds sing