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Hurricane Isaac Meet Hurricane Grandma

My Great Grandma stood, hands on hips, staring out the sliding-glass door as the rain pelted the concrete. “What we need is a hurricane,” she said, her gray, cropped, curly hair making her look wise and crazy, which is exactly what I thought when I first heard her words. But that wasn’t even the crazyContinue reading “Hurricane Isaac Meet Hurricane Grandma”

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