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On a recent morning, in the small town of Clinton, Ky. the sunshine was just breaking through the trees and leaves of a promising May morning. Having just enjoyed the thrill of my first cup of morning coffee upon the front porch, I took in the beauty unfolding before me.

At first, my mind did not register the fact that there was no water flowing. From the faucet, just a sound forming a cloud of nothingness. It took a whole 3 seconds for the enjoyment and good feeling from that first cup of coffee, to be blown away with the realization that there was no water. The well was not working.

Apologies to those who read this site faithfully over twelve years we've been publishing only to wonder if we had located to another planet when year 13 rolled around...

...my heart wasn't in writing. What used to keep me in the office until the light faded outside and Ivan was calling to see if I had been mugged dissipated like a Kentucky April snowfall. There were few news reports I felt like adding one more word to write about.

The Year of the Plague made it worse. When we did go out, we went masked and fearful. Scrubbing our hands with sanitizer and avoiding human touch. Why in the hell would I want to write about that?