The Saturday Evening Post

When I asked Dad what he thought of my cropping job, he reassured me greatly by saying, "Well, it would make a good bookmark..."

These snow-laden pine needles remind me of uniform epaulettes.

No, my feet aren't that big. I was borrowing Mom's size 10 boots.

I looked everywhere. I thought, "There have to be icicles somewhere." Finally, I found some on the front of the van. I suppose that was the only place that was warm enough to melt anything.