Yesterday, I attended an organ recital at the Methodist church downtown. The building has been standing for more than 100 years. Its...

It started soft and then developed into a high-pitched scream. The kettle was ready. I poured the boiling water over black tea bags in the pitcher, watching the inky beverage steep. The autumnal scent of sugar, cloves, and cinnamon wafted from the other burner, signaling it was time to strain the spices out and add the orange and lemon juices in. Once the juices were combined, I poured the contents of the saucepan into the pitcher with the tea. “Just like grandma’s.” Disc

We thought we were lost. We’d been driving for two hours already, and the maps app told me to turn down a dirt road that looked like a...