Between The Lines

Look now for glad and golden hours come swiftly on the wing … O rest beside the weary toad and hear the angels sing …  Old buses always seem to run faster on the way home, and most of the time, the road always seems to stay the same.

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Pretend Campers

Deep in the Heart of the Lone-Star state, it is like a whole nother world Y’all.  Waiting on some Hurricane by the name of Bob to roll thru.  You know, life is just chocked full of weather surprises this year.  At first I thought it was “a Mexican Roofers conspiracy, but now I am thinking … That Damn Al Gore … anything to make a point.”

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