Guest writer: Maurice Frank On the morning of Sunday September 17, I was in St. Jean Pied de Port, a quaint town in southwest France. I began walking and five weeks later on the morning of Sunday October 22, I walked into the large open square in front of the…
Guest Writer: Shelly Mozlin .,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.././././././././.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.,.. I have a love-hate relationship with November. Perhaps love and hate are excessive as descriptors; maybe like-dislike is more accurate (that way I can save hate for December, but that’s another story). My dislike for November revolves around 3 axes: changing the clocks, knowing that…
===================== # ===================== It’s November 1st and 27 degrees. The morning found me asleep in my bed, nestled up against my most consistent heat source–my guy. I listened for a while to the raging wind whipping through the mountains, making a howling sound against the stone walls of the Hobbit…