As a child, my bedtime ritual — after brushing my teeth in the only bathroom our family of 11 had — started by dipping the fingers of my right hand into the holy water font that hung on the wall near

When I visit with my sister Barb and her husband, John, it never takes long for John to get into storytelling mode. He grew up in French Lick, Indiana, a spa and railroad town back in the day that was

During our recent icy weather, with my work at a local thrift store canceled, I spent time putting together the scrapbook of my September bus trip to Vermont. ​ One of our stops on the trip was at