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    A house is not a home without a junk drawer. It’s the one place everybody in your house will sooner or later find themselves rummaging through, muttering frantic words, like: “I KNOW I saw it in here yesterday!” and “SURELY we didn’t throw that away.”

      Think about it this way: There is no army or police department in any halfway civilized country -- not even the United States -- that would allow an untrained, callow 18-year-old boy like the Uvalde, Texas, school shooter to wear a uniform and carry an AR-15 assault rifle.

        February is a tough month. Its days of lengthening sunlight hold little of interest to see. The ground is alternately hard as granite and sloppy with murky mud.

        The Chiquita Banana Senorita danced across our TV screens with a headdress of bright bananas that brought to mind vibrant sunshine and dazzling smiley faces of vivid yellow.

        Hey, ladies! Feeling old? Ugly? Overlooked? I have a guaranteed antidote for what ails you. It’s all a matter of shopping at the right store. I was there today, and BOY — do I feel great!

        It’s Sunday afternoon. All is right with the world. The air is summery warm, the sky is dotted with fluffy clouds and the birds are singing.

        “Leaves the color of Fruit Loops," my mother used to say. She'd sigh wistfully as we drove along Missouri highways each fall, filling her eyes with autumn's colors and filling the car with sighs of delight.

        As you've likely heard by now, New York Gov. Andrew Cuomo is resigning in the wake of allegations of utter disrespect, to put it mildly, of women on his staff. He should have resigned much earlier for his cover-up of how the state handled nursing homes during COVID-19. But on both fronts, ou…


        Planning your own funeral may be a difficult task for you, but imagine your loved ones’ relief when they find out it’s already done. You’ll give them peace of mind and lessen their burden of having to make difficult decisions during their time of grief.

        I was next in line at the grocery checkout. The woman in front of me was ready to pay; she fumbled her hand inside her purse and withdrew a worn, black, checkbook cover.

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