{Today's Letters}

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Dear Timothy James, our conversation yesterday on the front porch blessed me more than the sunroof I had down while running errands, the walk I took with River to Cherokee Park, and the fish tacos I ate for dinner. So grateful for you! Dear Humble Pie, you know you're 8 months pregnant when you drop something behind the dresser and you tell yourself, "I'll get that sometime after the baby's born when bending over doesn't seem like climbing Everest without an oxygen tank." Dear 3rd Floor Loft, in one week you've housed an artist and architect from Chicago and two ice cream shop owners from Indianapolis. . . .

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