The door is always open, just walk in

My column idea began Friday night at my parents’ house. We celebrated the “Passover” later than originally planned with our second annual Sedar. Our Sedar plate was full of symbolic foods. We also laughed, visited, wrestled the dogs, and watched the fiasco of getting the chickens back into the coop for the evening. My parents have mature chickens and some that are just “teenagers.” Guess…

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