It’s always late at night (it’s almost 3am now) that I miss Larry the most. It’s been less than a week, but reading a great blog post somewhere about an obscure Southern writer or statesman or chef and her or his connection to the Civil War or some county in Tennessee or Kentucky or Alabama or South Carolina makes me wish Larry was there to receive the email link I really want to send him.
Muscle memory is a hard thing to forget.
Love you, Larry.
Sam, I'm right there with you. My email feels empty already….
Sam, I’m right there with you. My email feels empty already….
Sam, I’m right there with you. My email feels empty already….
Sam, I’m right there with you. My email feels empty already….
Sam, I'm right there with you. My email feels empty already….