family
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The strange, tender timing of the things that can leave a mark… Coincidence is a funny little word for something that can feel anything but little. It means the surprising things that happen at the same time by chance, with no planning and no obvious connection. They just happen. Sometimes we hardly notice them. Sometimes…
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A Southern woman’s honest look back at love, memory, and the one who stayed in her heart. When I first read the question, “How did you meet your significant other?” I expected my mind to answer politely, like a well-trained Southern woman at a church supper. Instead, it took off down a dirt road somewhere…
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A Southern reflection on gratitude, gathering, and the complicated country I still love Ask me what cultural traditions I love about my country, and my heart answers before my head can get its shoes on. It says Sunday dinner. It says Thanksgiving. It says the Fourth of July, family recipes, front-porch stories, children running in…
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What day would I relive from my past if I could choose just one? My first thought was, absolutely not yesterday. Yesterday can stay right where it is, thank you very much. There I was, working at a motel in the dark, in hundred-degree heat, with no air conditioning, no lights, and no real desire…
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A short, serious little rant about common sense, change-counting, and the lost art of knowing how life actually works… At this point in the world’s evolution, I sometimes wonder what schools are teaching anymore. I do not say that to insult teachers, many of them are doing heroic work with too little time, too many…
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Rambling on about My Wonky Little Furry Family…. I am dog people. Always have been. Not “I like dogs” people. Not “aw, what a cute puppy” people. I mean dog people—the kind who can spot a mutt across a parking lot and immediately begin wondering about his backstory, his snack preferences, and whether he has…
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The fictional character I relate to most in this season of life…. Apparently, I have entered my Ouiser Boudreaux era. Yes, that Ouiser from Steel Magnolias… sharp-tongued, honest as a cast-iron skillet, and just Southern enough to say the thing everybody else is thinking but is too polite to let leave their mouth. I was…
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A love letter to home, independence, birdseed, and the little inventions that keep a body going… I suppose when you reach a certain age, you ought to have purchased more than one thing that turned out to be a blessing. If you have lived long enough, moved enough, learned enough, and maybe limped through a…
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The rambling insight of an ole’ woman who lives in the swamp… I have been making changes lately. Not that anybody would notice, mind you. Or if they have, they have done the polite southern thing and acted like they did not see a thing. The children, and a few other brave souls, have become…
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I used to loathe time. I know, I know—time is not exactly something you can give the side-eye to and expect it to apologize. Still, if time had been a person when I was younger, I would have accused it of being rude, bossy, and entirely too fond of rules. This question had me thinking…
Dirt Road Therapy 