On this day in history, well ok, so 18 years ago, I spent the day in the hospital, and the next few...but it was for a good cause, I was awaiting the arrival of a little girl.

Good husbands all know That a man sure had better When it comes to a wife’s birthday Not be a forgetter. As Shakespeare declared There’s no place in this world Or even the next Where such fury is hurled As that which is flung By a woman who’s scorned By a guy not recognizing The day his gal was born I’ve been in that place Once (well, more that) I forgot And I quickly began To regret it a lot So I wrote me a note On a bright yellow square To make sure that this year I’d remain well aware Of the day that it was And of the day coming near When it was time to tell her “Happy Birthday, my dear” But alas, how it goes When a man tries his best But winds up not doing Something she will bless This year, she decided To do what I’d done before: To look at the calendar And simply ignore The date of her birth And pretend that this year It just wasn’t worth Any kind of great cheer You see, it is fine If a year ends in “nine” Because women that age Don’t seem to mind But when the 9 turns to zero Something seems to snap Like a stretched rubber band Or a sharp metal trap.

Let's face it. I am sort of a pack rat. Now as anyone that is labelled as such will tell you, we don't think we are. My packratting is more in the kitchen gadget area, you know the things you buy, and think you will use, so you use them once and then put them in the cupboard.

When I was a kid, my dad would take us out to a farm north of where we lived so that he could visit with his longtime friend John. John was one of these guys that LOVED to tell stories about “the good ol' days” when he and my dad would ride around together and have some fun.

To the graduates of the Vinton-Shellsburg Class of 2015, and those who will celebrate with them today – and to those from Center Point-Urbana, Western Dubuque and any other place where the empty seats in gyms or auditoriums sit as stark reminders of the unimaginable horrors a community has suffered and survived: You deserve a graduation message more personal than “Two roads diverged in the woods,” more relevant than “Be the very best version of yourself” and more candid about the scars your crises have left than any of those overused graduation quotations.

Yogi Berra said, or has been quoted as saying, “Little League baseball is a very good thing because it keeps the parents off the streets.” More recently, St.

Have you ever heard this jingle: Laugh, laugh.  Thought I'd die.  Die? That means funeral. Funeral? That means flowers. Flowers? That means money.

Thank you to all the people who came forward to offer prayers, assistance and support to the families of the victims, and to us, following the recent tragic accident.

It seems that I write too much about sleeping, or the lack of enough sleep. Maybe because, as the joke goes, "I'm sleeping like a baby...up every 2 hours.

If you are among those who have spent the past week mourning a friend or relative who died in last week’s awful accident – and especially if you are among those who had already attended way too many too-soon funerals in the past year – I have a story for you.