Tuesday evenings in our house usually carry that familiar mix of tired footsteps and hungry questions. The kids come in from school with backpacks half
Saturday afternoons in our town often feel like a small celebration of everyday life. The park near the courthouse fills with families, kids run around
Sunday afternoons in our town often revolve around the backyard grill. The smell of charcoal drifts across fences, someone down the street is mowing the
Saturday afternoons in our town usually move at an easy pace. The farmers market spreads across the square, children weave between booths with lemonade in
Wednesday evenings in our neighborhood often turn into small gatherings without much planning. After work at the town office, I usually stop by the local