In Dan and Linda Penn’s kitchen, there is a covey of empty Wild Turkey ceramics above the wood cabinets. The wattle necked and plumed shaped containers have been dry and non-reproductive for the last 25 years. There is a fine sheen of dust covering their hollow feathers.
Below the birds, a framed sign on the wall reads, “In the cookies of life/ Friends are the chocolate chips”. No one can argue against the sentiment’s corniness. But the basement-recording…
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