I was cleaning the barn today, a job that will take at least several days. I kept finding things I totally forgot about, like an old green urn that used to sit in the corner of the living room in the old home stead, which housed a large wooden protractor we used to draw circles with on the chalk board. This urn is probably a good seventy years old, at least. Then I found a letter I wrote to the New York Times in 1998 that I sent but was never published. I remember the feeling of … [Read more...]
