It’s amazing that the guy delivering the mail is still wearing those gray-blue, stripe down the side Civil War USPS trousers.
It’s amazing that the grandson of the man who bought my father’s Western Auto Store in Hudson, Michigan, in 1952 found me because of my blog.
It’s amazing how a routine can save your bacon. (For those unfamiliar, saving one’s bacon means getting someone out of a bad situation, say, a pandemic or something similar.)
It’s amazing that Trump is positioning himself to the right of NASCAR and thinks there are enough voters there to get reelected.
It’s amazing what the Black Lives Matter movement has already accomplished – nothing is fixed but everything is different.
It’s amazing that my seven year old grandsons are now jumping off the diving board into the deep water, although, sadly, I can’t witness this remarkable feat in person.
It’s amazing that there are, in this physically dangerous, emotionally unwieldy time, paths to the sublime if we can calm ourselves long enough to find them.