Yesterday was a bad day. The upper element of my oven caught on fire; my vacuum cleaner began to make a deep slash on my hardwood floor; and there are no vacation plans on the immediate horizon.
My closest friends and I solved that problem by heading to the Everglades for a little R & R. (At least we pretended that’s where we were going). Actually, we were in Clay County at the most peaceful place on the planet – Frank Portera’s retreat, which I like to call six flags over Tibbee ( Tibbee Creek for you Yankees.) Continue reading
A reader dropped me a note suggesting that I do a post blasting cosmetic companies for using 30-something year-olds to advertise products those kids won’t need for another three decades. Amen, sister. I’m on it.
To be honest this has been bothering me for some time too…like for the last 20 years when I’ve been completely available to help advertise the fountain of youth. I could be the “before,” and the peaches and cream “Gidget” could be the “after”.
It was as if the sun went behind the clouds yesterday when I got word of the death of Carole McReynolds Davis, arguably Starkville’s most colorful character. Starkville will never be quite the same without her.
To paraphrase that 17th century philosopher Rene Descartes — I wonder, therefore I am.
I’ve been wondering a lot lately. Seems like yesterday I was wondering what to wear to the prom. Today I’m wondering where my Medicare card got off to. I’m wondering where my glasses went and why I’ve started walking funny when I get out of the car. I’m also wondering if my retirement fund will last as long as I do, and worst of all, I wonder who that old woman is looking back at me from the mirror.
Lordy, I must be Wonder Woman!
Back in the day one of the courses required of every female student was home economics. I don’t remember learning any economics, but I do recall sewing a housecoat (we called them dusters back then). It was so misshapen, the right arm hole was down around my hip. I realized then that sewing was not to be my strong suit.