bock-bock! i’m a chicken….

bock-bock! i’m a chicken….

i am not a fighter. i hate competition and combat. i rarely see its merit {unless there is crime committed or an innocent victim needs defense.} i definitely own up to that part of me who cringes at one-on-one confrontation, typically involving hearsay, emotional...
a little less “whack”….

a little less “whack”….

  all year-long i set pen to paper to list the things, people and circumstances i’m thankful for. typically i’m uncontainable: an erupting geyser of gratitude; oodles of exclamatory grammar gymnastics and language syntax conveying my whistling teapot...