by Freida Marie Crump
Greetin’s from the Ridge.
I’m not so jaded as to subscribe to the theory that the government can ruin everything, but they’ve sure done a number on Springtime. This most glorious of seasons that’s decorated with buddin’ trees, the squawk of early mornin’ robins, and the smell of fragrant earth has been ruined by the loomin’ prospect of April 15th, tax day.
Like a bureaucratic proctologist,