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Confessions of a Season Purist

I’ll admit it’s more of a mindset than a meteorological observation, but if you’re a winter-hater, might it be better in the long run to hang on to fall as long as you can?

I Wish I Had Said Something

He’s just one guy, he won’t be around forever, and he’ll probably never run into a black person for the rest of his life. No harm, no foul, right?

Goodbye, Goose

It was classy enough to rise above the dive bar ranks, but not so swanky that you couldn’t waltz in there with sweatpants and flip-flops.

On Tattoos

During the hour it took to fill in the shapes of Michigan, Huron, Superior, Erie, and Ontario, I learned a lot about tattoos. Apparently, no design is off-limits, so long as you can find an artist willing to draw it.

Maybe I Should Care More

On Thursday, February 16, production came to a grinding halt at the greenhouse because most of my coworkers took a personal day for the nationwide protest, “A Day Without Immigrants.”

A Farm Boy At Heart

Hey girl, you wanna climb the power line towers to watch the sunset over the peach orchard? Hop on my four-wheeler and I’ll show you the back forty.

On Conviction

I believe that God sees enough glimmers of faith and goodwill in our everyday conduct to keep Him convicted of our worth.


I still see Betelgeuse on camping trips with friends and family, and I still think of it as mine.

Momentos de Tejas

By the end of the night, the musician had burned himself out, Ed was snoozing on a table in the back, and a thirteen-year-old girl who’d somehow snuck in was able to snag a selfie with “the Michigan Boys.”