Flu-written, not flea-ridden
By C.L. Beck
3-19-08
My column today is flu-written. No, I did not say flea-ridden. Flea-ridden is what happens when you saddle a flea and ride it. Flu-written means you wrote something while coughing your head off and wishing you’d gotten the influenza shot last fall. You know—the vaccination the CDC now thinks was for the wrong viral strain.

The Game’s Afoot
By C.L Beck
2-20-08
The game of Internet tag is going around, and I’m delighted to say that my husband, Russ, has declared that I’m “it.”

Endearing Young Charms
By C.L Beck
2-6-08
The remaining leaves on the trees rustled like dried bones in the wind, and the clouds resembled fingers of doom. My husband, Russ, and I ignored the omen and drove to Nephi for breakfast.

Up in the Night
By C.L Beck
1-23-08
Last night, after the usual tossing, turning, and fluffing of pillows, I nodded off into that dream where you’re rich, intelligent and able to fly.

2007 in Review
By C.L Beck
1-9-08
Last week the Messenger listed the top 10 news stories of 2007 (actually, the story was a little ahead of itself, with a headline that read the top stories of 2008—but we know what they meant), as voted on by the editorial staff. Because I’m an involved citizen and an avid reader of the paper—but mostly because I couldn’t come up with a better idea for a column—I decided to do my own recap.

Not a bright New Year
By C.L Beck
12-26-07
New Year’s Eve—a time for setting goals and reviewing past events. Or for sitting in the dark because the power disappeared in a blinding flash. Well, maybe not exactly a flash—more like a few winks and a blink.

’Twas the Night Before Christmas (With apologies to Clement C. Moore)
By C.L Beck
12-12-07
’Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house Every creature was sneezing, including the mouse.

Child of the Corn
11-28-07
I was lost and running blindly, wanting to scream for help. Instead, I turned to my husband, Russ, and said, “This corn maze we’re in—is it supposed to be fun?”