Ritual clothes exchange

by Genie Ellis Zacharias

Cold weather has arrived. At least inside our farm house. As I write this toward the end October, the temperature in the library/office is icy. We may be perspiring by Halloween in Indian summer-like conditions, but for now – in here – it’s the dead of winter. I don’t believe it’s politically correct to say “Indian summer” these days, but I’m not sure how else to describe it. I don’t mean any offense. As the political lexicon changes to reflect all these heightened sensibilities, I’m slowly rendered speechless attempting not to offend – when I had no intention of doing so in the first place. It’s getting a little ridiculous. But that’s another column. I believe we already did a cartoon about it.
 
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