Homesick for ‘murica, or from Glasses to Culture to Grieving

I’m homesick for America. Actually, this is a first in nearly two years.  It seems that the closer I get to my close-of-service, the more I can taste America.  Literally.  Some Honey BBQ on a set of boneless chicken wings from Buffalo Wild Wings.  A platter of my mother’s home-cooked lasagna.  Perhaps a little San […]