Nostalgia

I miss the smell of a real Christmas tree.

I miss reading Mike Royko.

I miss my size 32 waist.

I miss my mother’s Sunday breakfasts, replete with fried potatoes, sawmill gravy and eggs cooked to order.

I miss two-newspaper towns.

I miss letter writing.

I miss holding a baby.

I miss being able to sleep past 6:45.

I miss Mom-and-Pop grocery stores.

I miss the crackle of wood stove.

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