Mrs. Loggins taught English at a high school in rural North Carolina where I grew up. If she had stood on her tiptoes, she might have barely stretched past the five-feet mark on a door jamb. She was pleasingly plump and wore her dark hair in a cute pixie cut. As one of the younger teachers, she connected well with 16-year-olds. I had the luck and privilege of being one of her tenth-grade students.
My whims are about winding my way through this earthly journey with a dictionary, a book of synonyms, and a thesaurus. If any intelligence is found here, it is genuine and not artificial.
Tuesday, September 12, 2023
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And the show goes on, no matter what
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