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The truth is I need a new address book. The one I’m using is full of people who aren’t even in my life anymore.
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I am 19 years old again and have left my boyfriend back at home. He hasn’t written for a week and I’m sure the relationship is over. Sure my life is over. Frank Sinatra understands.
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Charlie Chaplin impersonator Harold Kranick performs for a special spectator.
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I was in awe of bus drivers, navigating those big awkward machines up and down those narrow slippery roads. Not to mention the noise factor behind them in the seats.
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When the holidays come around, Norte “elves” hit the streets helping to recycle live trees.
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In mid-August, my husband and I spent a couple days with my brother and his wife in Tawas City on Lake Huron. Driving east across Michigan was like going back in time—arriving in a town that looked like Traverse City fifty years ago.
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Years ago, I joined a women’s discussion group and began to get acquainted with the other members. Although I know it’s wrong to judge people, I have to admit I found one of the women annoying.
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The ancient Christmas Cactus on my table almost went in the compost a few months ago. Shriveled and gray, it looked unhealthy and unhappy and no wonder. There were little teeth marks at the end of each branch from encounters with the cat.
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I am standing in line at the post office, counting the people in front of me, feeling impatient and annoyed... I’m not in a hurry. I’m just feeling lonely and lost and it’s not about the post office.
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While packing for a trip I grabbed my hair dryer and hair curler, as always, and then paused... Maybe I could just leave them at home? A terrifying thought, to be sure.