A federal nutrition program that places new restrictions on snacks and beverages sold in schools also provides an opportunity for some fresh thinking …
I grew up in the “olden days” as my grandkids would say, before such delights as Books on Tape
We live in a pastoral little hamlet, Widdle Baby and I.
It was 42 years ago this month that my wife, Margaret, and I and our two pre-school age children rolled into Summerville from Atlanta to make a new …
It’s amazing where really good recipes can come from. I’ve actually gotten one at a church service (don’t ask!), off a pumpkin pie can label, and …
Life as I know it has become manifested in the dim, blinking brake lights in the distance, having left me behind.
I have to stop watching HGTV. It’s giving me a complex.
Is it baseball All-Star break time already?
Never let it be said that I’m not a sentimental guy.
The first time I ever attended a golf tournament I was 7 years old.
Well I must admit that I have been surprised at the amount of response, both pro and con, that I have received regarding my comments on the play …
“I’m at the airport with six kids, 12 pieces of luggage and eight carry-ons! Want to change places?”
Here are my final thoughts on the World Cup.
Sometimes you just need to buy the shoes.
Last year it was the Summer of Monopoly — a golf shirt the color of every street on a Monopoly board.
Once upon a time, I was a real football fan. This is why.
I’ve always been proud that I was born in the same month as America. Flying the flag on this particular day is probably our most graphic sign of …
Remember the mean kids in high school? The ones who did mean stuff to impress their mean friends, then laughed about it, because they were mean?
In my defense, it looked cool and refreshing. Cool as in temperature wise, not style, and refreshing, as in maybe a little aromatic relief from this ridiculous heat.
For those of you who have not followed or participated in our effort to develop a Vision Plan for the town of Summerville, let me update you. The …
There’s never a dull moment at Crazy Acres.
There’s this stranger who yells at noisy kids, shakes his fists at speeders in the neighborhood, glares at youngsters who thump the subwoofers in …
I drive a lot between here and Atlanta, sometimes twice in a month.
Thanks to Facebook, I know now which Brady Bunch kid I’d be, what kind of dog I am and how long I would survive a zombie apocalypse. (Jan, beagle and forever—my husband is handy with a shotgun, and I swing a mean cast iron skillet. I think we’d be OK. You thought I was going to say I don’t believe in zombies, didn’t you?)
She was blonde from birth and had big chocolaty eyes and a bright pink tummy, so much so that early on she was dubbed “Miss Pinkness.”
Sometimes I watch life go by and think, “Wow, I haven’t been surprised in a while.”
Oakbrook is beginning to get some much needed attention. There are several plans forming for the future; for now I would like to share some things that have already occurred.