Columns

It’s the “tweener” season at our house. Yes, I know “tweener” isn’t a real word; I knew that even before Microsoft Word put the red line under it on my computer screen.

It sat on the closet shelf for nearly 50 years. I didn’t use it, but because it was something I had when I was growing up, I never wanted to give it away, either.

We watched the big game last weekend. Well, actually I watched the big game.
Jenny started out watching it with me, but she kept nodding off. I had to nudge her a few times so she could watch the replays of the most exciting parts.

It’s sort of silly, really. I was thinking about it last weekend, as I put on my heavy quilted coat and stocking cap to take our beagle for an early morning walk. A brisk wind made my fingers feel like they were frostbitten before we had made our trek up the block and back.