Good Morning and Happy Friday to everyone but the 40 days and 40 nights of rain we are currently receiving:
Last year I lived in the dorm closest to the baseball field. You could literally see the whole field from the back of the building. For a baseball fan like myself, it was a magical time. When I found out I was living there, my immediate thought was, "I can't believe how many foul balls I'm going to find! What fun!"
I found none — nine months with zero results.
On Wednesday, I was walking to my new residence passing the baseball field, scouring the ground for arrant gems flung from Tar Heel bats, when I looked up and found a ball perfectly perched on the wall behind center field. I took it.
Life is a mystery. No one knows mystery like New York Times best-selling author Ellery Adams. That's not even her real name. How much more mysterious can you get?