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Simplicity

by Freida Marie Crump

PooseyDigest_WPGreetings from Poosey.

The Mathewsons were unique. One-of-a-kind. Some would say eccentric. Flo and Henry Mathewson were an elderly brother and sister who lived the first house west of town, neither married, still living on the home place where they were raised.

Every morning of their adult life Flo would fix one egg and toast for Henry, and the two of them would listen to the

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The 9-Month Schedule

by Freida Marie Crump

PooseyDigest_WPGreetings from Poosey.

Once upon a time in a faraway school system a wise old wizard dropped himself right in the middle of a faculty meeting. The school had often been visited by alien creatures …food inspectors, fire and safety folks, and an army of workshop leaders who’d teach the teachers how to teach the current governmental mandates, but they’d never been visited by a real

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Poosey Digest: Look Death in the Eye

…and laugh

by Freida Marie Crump

PooseyDigest_WPGreetings from Poosey.

When someone mentions near-death experiences, my mind races back to a Halloween party years ago when we were instructed to dress up as the most horrifying creature we knew. Herb had been secretive all week as to what he’d be wearing and we arrived in separate cars. My jaw hit the floor when my husband walked into the church fellowship hall

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‘Tis the Season

by Freida Marie Crump

PooseyDigest_WPGreetings from Poosey.

It seems a shame. Right here in the most beautiful of seasons we’re annually slapped in the face with ugliness. There’s surely no season in the Midwest that rivals autumn for its cornucopia of colors, flavors, fun, and festivals. Springtime is often touted as the most glorious of seasons but when you live in Tornado Alley or your April ritual consists of sandbagging

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Sports and Shorts

by Freida Marie Crump

PooseyDigest_WPGreetings from Poosey.

I swore I’d never get this way, but I have finally achieved the status as an all-out prude. Chalk it up to my age, my disposition, my digestive tract…but something has come over me and I’ve become a genuine prig and a killjoy.

I can remember my own parents complaining about the way I dressed. I think it’s endemic in every generation to

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Times (and Games) Have Changed

by Freida Marie Crump

PooseyDigest_WPGreetings from Poosey.

I miss charades. No, the world will not come crashing to a halt at the loss of this age-old parlor game, and I will probably live happily ever after if I never play it again, but I fear that the loss signals something a bit deeper.

If you’ve spent the last hundred years in a cave and aren’t familiar with the pastime, charades

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The Conflab That Counts

by Freida Marie Crump

PooseyDigest_WPGreetings from Poosey.

Our church’s longest-standing tradition has nothing to do with baptisms, communion or Christmas pageants, but the annual Fall Bazaar. Once a year we celebrate the gathering of the crops even though our congregation has only a handful of farmers. Every October we drag in armloads of dead cornstalks, fall foliage, and more cider than our digestive systems can safely tolerate, then hold a

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Rule #1: Just Have Fun!

by Freida Marie Crump

PooseyDigest_WPGreetings from Poosey.

We’ve missed something. My pillow still has a tag that reads, “Do not remove under penalty of law,” and even my ketchup bottle sports a label filled with information required by government regulation. So what happened to parades? Nearly every town of any size hosts an annual parade or two but I can’t find anything published by the federal government regulating the things.

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Poosey Digest: Think PIG!

by Freida Marie Crump

PooseyDigest_WPGreetings from Poosey.

It was some of the best advice I’d ever received. I was traveling into town with my friend Zelma and we were running late for a meeting. I’d just rounded a curve, and Boom!, a pickup truck pulled out right in front of me then proceeded to piddle down the highway at 40 mph with a stream of traffic backing up behind us.

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