One step is all it takes to begin a journey, whether it's a thousand miles or only one. When I was a little girl I walked a thousand miles through Citronelle. With no one to look after me, I stayed at Mama's office. More accurately, I strayed around Mama's office. Left to my own devices … Continue reading The Walk — Part 2
Tag: memories
Sweet Potato Cobbler and a Lesson in Love
If it’s true that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach, then my husband’s heart belongs to another woman. Since we’ve been married, he has sung the praises of her pinto beans, her cornbread, her fried pies. She had the culinary Midas touch. At her hand the most common ingredients turned into … Continue reading Sweet Potato Cobbler and a Lesson in Love
Merry and Bright
Every year, as December approached, my grandmother and her friends would start sharing large jars of friendship cake starter amongst each other. After all, what better way to show a little Christmas cheer and help a sister through the stressful holiday season than with a Ball jar filled with assorted canned fruits that had been … Continue reading Merry and Bright
The Arbor
I have an arbor. I flat love it. Husband hates it - bugs, mess, blah blah blah. I don't care. I have an arbor because Granny had an arbor. I flat loved it. It was covered with muscadine vines growing down to the ground and high up into the trees. I would drag whatever lawn … Continue reading The Arbor
Happy Easter…now go stand by that bush
As I look back through the photographic record of my childhood, I see a distinct pattern. To commemorate most every special occasion, I was hauled out in the yard, strategically placed in front of something blooming with seasonal flowers, and commanded to stare into the sun until my retinas burned away, all while trying to … Continue reading Happy Easter…now go stand by that bush
Love, Me
We were cleaning out her house. Packing up the dishes, the linens, the cutlery. The books, nick nacks, and bridge sets. Her mother's wedding dress and her daughter's baby dress. A forgotten shoebox filled with Borax and zinnias. Nearly a hundred years of living to be parceled out, stored away or sold. Her closet was … Continue reading Love, Me
The dark blot
I like to say that I was raised Baptistmethodistepiscopalholiness with a little dash of Church of God thrown in for good measure. As the daughter of Episcopalian parents, with Baptist and Methodist grandparents, Holiness friends, and Church of God help, religion was always close at hand, not to mention the fact that in a town … Continue reading The dark blot
Guilty pleasures
Last Friday night, Husband and I had the good fortune to eat dinner at Satterfield's in Cahaba Heights. From the cheese plate to dessert, I have to say that every little mouthful was just divine, but I most especially enjoyed one of my guiltiest pleasures - rabbit. Now Husband doesn't eat anything that once had … Continue reading Guilty pleasures
Back to school
Today is the first day of school. New clothes, binders, pencils, and paper. New hope for a better year, nice friends, and teachers who aren't too hard. A chance to reinvent yourself for the year. Find your niche. Make your mark. Change the world. The possibilities stretch out before you like the line in the … Continue reading Back to school
Why I love crime (The final installment)
My mama once said to me during one of our frequent political discussions, "I don't believe in the death penalty. I've known plenty of murderers, and they weren't all bad people." Plenty of murderers, I wondered? Plenty as in "existing in ample quantity or number?" My sweet mama? Well, yes. And come to think of … Continue reading Why I love crime (The final installment)