A short while ago, there was a ruckus on the back porch. The dogs and I went out to investigate, and when I shined my light around, I saw a hunched, gray figure hurrying up the ridge into the woods. All I can say is that if Joy Cartwright and I get awakened in the wee hours because of this interloper and our dogs’ determination to dialogue with him, someone is going to get a piece of firewood laid across the cranium with precision and dispatch. Like livin’ in Nashville up in here… ~ S.K. Orr