by Freida Marie Crump
Greetings from the Ridge.
Sometimes the best ideas can come from the tiniest minds.
Herb Crump, the man who fooled me into marriage some six decades ago, is not anyone’s vision of the Spirit of Christmas. It’s all I can do to get him to wear clean socks to the church cantata. But.once in a great while he’ll be visited by a noble vision. Perhaps it’s