By Andrew R. Duckworth
When I was young, I drove through
Icy water in dicey places,
The places they tell you not to go
But you know better so you go.
I went, I drove through the ice.
I didn’t see it until I heard it.
But, by the time I heard it,
It was too late.
The cold water under the surface
Had already invaded the engine.
I made it home that night,
But not without the painful chill
Eating at my feet and calves.
Poetry of Andrew Ryan Duckworth 
Brrrrrrrr!!!!! Are you interested in hearing Father Foster lecture Sundays at 10:30? He tells the history of the Anglican Church, and he’s wonderful! Mitt and I have been several times. Sherry
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We will definitely be at Mass. I will ask Addie about the lecture at 10:30!
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