My mother does this weird thing with coffee: She doesn’t drink it. Oh, she still expects the nursing home staff to bring her a cup every morning. She just lets it sit there, untouched. Then after 45 minutes, she picks up her plastic mug (a sippy cup for elderly people, just without the lid and spout), takes a drink, and announces, “It’s cold.” She always seems completely surprised by this
[Featured image courtesy of the Blountsville Pool, Blountsville, Alabama] Forty years ago, in the summer of 1977, I was preoccupied with two important matters. The first was wondering who could possibly replace Farrah Fawcett, my absolutely favorite actress on my absolutely favorite television program, Charlie’s Angels, after she decided to quit the show. During those long summer months, I pored over all the latest issues of Tiger Beat, Teen Beat, and
If the face above couldn’t launch a thousand fitness infomercials, I don’t know what could. I’ll confess at first I was uncertain about having my photo appear on the U.S. Represented grid slider for a week, but then I figured what the hell. Since this is an article about diet and exercise, I’ll just feature my “you have a pretty face . . . if you’d only lose some weight”
I think I am only slightly exaggerating when I say that being a redneck is sort of fashionable right now. Ever since the white working class proved decisive in the 2016 presidential election, both major parties are re-evaluating their relationship with an “embarrassing” voting bloc they believed they could ignore with impunity. However, over a year ago, even before Donald Trump secured the Republican nomination, yours truly cautioned against writing
My husband and I often joke that, except for the folks who commute to Schriever Air Force Base, most Colorado Springs residents probably think the world ends east of Marksheffel Road. We live in a nice middle/upper middle-class subdivision off Highway 94, just twelve miles outside of town, but I sometimes imagine our house is off the edge of one of those old flat-earth maps, where dragons awaited to devour
A Response to Frost’s “Mending Wall” Sorry I weren’t in a talking mood when we was fixing the wall. I was pretty wore out from helping Hiram cut stove wood after his boy sawed off his hand and died and my son’s wife run off again. Don’t think Amy ever will git over losing that baby. But I don’t like to go on about it. You’ve had your own troubles.