How are we going to mourn this? I understand the fact that we’re talking about a $1.63 Billion With a B business, and lives are inextricably intertwined with livelihoods. But people died here. Farms grown with love and passed down through generations are lost forever. Places where people lived, laughed, fell in love, got married are now ashes.
This is the sort of behavior that lands you in Group, as in a Group that starts each session with “My name is John T. and I nearly went emo AF on Facebook with a 1970’s lyric.”
She sprawled across my Ikea Ektorp sleeper sofa like something out of an Audrey Hepburn movie, destroying me with one of the funniest stories I’d ever heard. When she finally reached the end, I was laughing so hard I couldn’t catch my breath. There was something happening here. Something weird, something different.
“Hey Daddy, what’s your favorite farm animal?” “Great question! Hmmm…I’m partial to pigs, myself.” “There are no pigs on the farm.” “Oh, OK. How about chickens?” “There are no chickens on the farm. Daddy, are there ghosts on the farm?” “Um, you mean ‘goats?’ Sure, there are goats on the farm.” “There are ghosts on …