Why the books were delivered to a tree rather than to our porch dates back to early spring when the UPS guy told us he wouldn’t go up our drive again until we sprung big-time for more gravel. We didn’t, he hasn’t, and so we have the delivery tree. No matter: I’ve picked up new shoes, CDs, computer parts and and discount rain jackets under that tree, sometimes just slowing down the car, opening the door, reaching down and grabbing up the package.
P.S. Thanks, Steve Semken, my publisher for not only publishing the book, but getting it so quickly from the sauna-like conditions of Iowa to the sauna-like conditions of Kansas.
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