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August 1, 2015
Rabbit, rabbit. It's my favorite month of the year. On the last day, I'll celebrate the day that Mom pushed me out of her. Go Mom! I miss her a lot. This is not going to be a tribute to Mom but she will be on my mind. I used to imagine what it must have been like in August of 1952 to be walking around nine months pregnant. That Mom was a real trouper! Meanwhile, it's hotter than the hinges of hell. It will be hot for at least three or four more months. Welcome dog days of summer.