Each Life Is Book-Worthy; It’s Just The Way It Is Written
My best friend, Misty, came to visit this week. The hour before she had to leave, my husband watched the girls so we could take a walk around our land. We put our hats and coats on in the breezeway,
“Kissmass Yights!” & Gratitude
The receipt checker, as I exited Sam’s Club, muttered beneath her breath, “I might just kill someone today.” The woman directed this comment to me while nodding at the back of the man who’d cut in front of the line