Dear Santa, I’ve been a good girl this year … well, pretty good. On a scale between glowing halo and riding the lightning, I’d say I’m a solid halo with just a little tarnish. Not so much that you’d notice. Just don’t look too closely. Santa, it’s been a long year full of ups and … Continue reading Dear Santa…
I come from the woods. The woods is where I grew up running down trails slick with pine straw, where I explored through brambles and thickets, where I climbed higher higher higher on pine trees laid low by hurricanes and criss-crossed like so many pick-up sticks. Baw and I rode our horses through the woods. … Continue reading The Woods
In years past, starting on the first day of November, my social media feed would be overflowing with thankfulness posts. Honestly, it got on my last natural nerve. Most of it seemed like so much “humble bragging” — an excuse to tell people just how wonderful your life is (or how wonderful you want it … Continue reading Thankfully Thankful
Small towns are notorious for it. It can spread faster than a pat of butter on a hot biscuit. It can be funny or hurtful, friendly or mean, true as true can be or bald-faced lies. It’s repercussions can last for just a hot minute or for years and years and years. What is this … Continue reading Between You, Me, and the Fence Post
I’m troubled, y’all, troubled. It all started toward the end of September when I went to visit Sonny Boy in Chicago. I was flying Southwest, which I love, and I had scored “A” group status for boarding. I got on the plane and chose a window seat in the same row as a quiet-looking white-haired … Continue reading Slightly! Lightly!
Brother and I huddled under the heavy, oak table on the old red corduroy chaise lounge cushion. It was a little more than a week before my tenth birthday, and he was only three and a half. We hadn’t been able to bring much, but I had my favorite teddy bear and Brother had his … Continue reading Hurricane Memories
Pigs are popular in the South, both on our farms and on our plates. The poor vegetarian is hard pressed to find so much as a collard leaf that hasn’t been seasoned with salt pork or a sliver of green tomato that hasn’t been fried in lard. And all manner of swine flesh appears on … Continue reading From Snoot to Tail: Here are all the idioms about pigs!
It’s time we had a frank discussion about hell. You know … down there, the hot place, Hades. Anyone who’s ever sat through a Baptist sermon knows that if you don’t get right, you’re gonna get left (thank you to my friend Phil Proctor for giving me that saying many years ago). I have to … Continue reading Going to Hell in a Handbasket
Did your granny rock a smokey eye? Mine either. My maternal grandmother looked like a granny. White hair. Sensible shoes. Always face powder and pink lipstick. Maybe a little rouge. Blue Grass perfume. Blue Grass smells like granny. Today I turn 49. Words like “age appropriate” and “sensible” have started creeping into my mind as … Continue reading It’s my birthday, but I ain’t no granny yet!
I’ve been as busy as a one-armed paper hanger with hives this summer! It all started in May when I attended the Book Expo in New York where my new book They Call Me Orange Juice was on display. (Read what I learned from that experience here.) Sonny went with me, and we got to … Continue reading The summer, recapped.