Cracker Barrel east of St. Louis. Full dish of cocktail sauce in baby’s fist. All over my jeans! Not my favorite perfume. Now at McDonald’s Play Place for some exercise. Is this what they mean when they talk about seeing America?
Next up: the Arch. (Singular and not golden.)
I Tell You What…
Gusty Winds May Exist
Moving is Like Childbirth, and I Have a Book to Prove It
The New Abnormal
Month of Motivation: I’m Stuffed