You Look Unreal By Steve Carr If you don’t mind me asking, who decorated your fake tree?” he said as he slurped his eggnog and grabbed four snowman sugar cookies, leaving but a few disembodied arms and legs
For a Day of Giving Thanks By Marylyn Cork Over the river and through the woods . . . The opening line of that old Thanksgiving poem pops into my head every time I think of the holiday
By Steve Carr For those of us who live and work in eastern Idaho and are not affiliated with the Idaho National Laboratory, what happens there (despite their claims of being an open book) has always been a
A Summer Hazard By Marylyn Cork I got drilled by a yellow jacket the other evening—actually, a paper wasp, according to the people who know such things. To me, the two species look identical. I would have thought
Ten Toes Down in Idaho By Steve Carr I was spooning ladles of broccoli and cheese sauce on my four-and-a-half-pound Idaho Baker at a summer fun fest potato bar when I heard the lady behind me tell her
Nurture on High By Marylyn Cork I saw the most amazing thing a couple of weeks ago: a herd of elk, numbering at least three bulls, peeled down off a mountainside and jumped a fence and the county
She Lacks Appreciation By Steve Carr If you were to consider the year in terms of distinct parts, like twelve unique co-workers, how would you feel about June? July, for example, is often the center of attention, the
Hello to Wild Turkeys and Pocket Gophers By Marylyn Cork It’s spring in the Panhandle. Finally. I don’t suppose anybody who has never lived in a country with four distinct seasons understands what
But Not Spring Sandstorms? By Steve Carr On a modest spot overlooking Trail Creek among the trees in Sun Valley sits a memorial to Ernest Hemingway. Etched in stone are words he famously penned. “Best of all he
A Cabin-Fevered Cat By Marylyn Cork My cat Rambo is bored. Tired to death of winter. He longs to be outside chasing anything that moves, but too much snow has accumulated in my yard. Rambo came to me
