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Greetings
March 7-13, 2004
Greetings are posted with the most
recent day's first, and you can scroll down to see previous days.
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one?
March 13, 2004
bill,
Hi from n.y.c. Im still trying to climb the ladder, but its hard with a cello strapped to your back.
- linda
March 11, 2004
Uncle Al,
Greetings from the "Sticks!" Dome and
Hubbard say "Hi". That's all for now,
- Nate
March 9, 2004
Andy Vernon,
Thanks for spending your spring break putting in the backyard. I will miss you while I am on vacation! From your loving wife, Sara
- Sara Vernon
March 8, 2004
carmen, matt, bonnie, bob, mary and gala,
missing you in seattle, come back soon
- sue
March 7, 2004
Garrison Kellior,
Love all the pretty good shows you've done so far. Hope you'll keep doing many more.
- Janet Perry
SPARKY,
Pleased to know you had a great time at the beach. And, sorry to hear the knot fell outta mom's wooden leg. I don't think that she has any warrantee for that happenstance. There must be a good cabinet-maker near the beach. But if not, I will start a new appendage in the garage. Love, Joe
- JOE
MR. SHELD,
DEAR MR. SHELD,
THAT CLAY HEAD I MADE. IT LOOKS JUST LIKE YOU. A REALLY BIG MOUTH, A PIMPLE ON THE NOSE AND REALLY BIG HAIR.
- SETH
Mary Jo & Jim Olson,
Love and best wishes for an early Spring. When is opening day at the lake? Would love to come and drop a line with you, two. All the best - - always!
- Cousin Carl
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In Garrison Keillor's latest book, Lake Wobegon native Margie Krebsbach dreams up the idea of a trip to Rome, hoping to get her husband Carl to make love to her — he's been sleeping across the hall and she has no idea why. She finds a patriotic purpose for the journey. A Lake Wobegon boy, Gussie Norlander, died in the liberation of Rome, 1944, and his grave, according to his elderly brother, Norbert, is in a neglected weed patch near the Colosseum...
It's a story of Wogegonians in a strange land, telling stories of kinship and self-revelation — all delivered with Keillor's trademark humor.
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From Garrison Keillor:
“When I was 16, Helen Fleischman assigned me to memorize Shakespeare’s Sonnet No. 29, ‘When in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes, I all alone beweep my outcast state’ for English class, and fifty years later, that poem is still in my head. Algebra got washed away, and geometry and most of biology, but those lines about the redemptive power of love in the face of shame are still here behind my eyeballs, more permanent than my own teeth. The sonnet is a durable good. These 77 of mine include sonnets of praise, some erotic, some lamentations, some street sonnets and a 12-sonnet cycle of months. If anything here offends, I beg your pardon, I come in peace, I depart in gratitude.”
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