by Freida Marie Crump
Greetings from Poosey.
Poosey is the electrical version of the canary in the mineshaft. If there’s a lightning storm within a hundred miles we’ll be the place that loses its electricity. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky last week when about 8 o’clock at night the area was flung into darkness. Nothing was running but Herb’s sinuses, so we went out onto the front stoop