A front page article in Sunday's Atlanta Journal-Constitution discussed the fate of former Atlanta School Superintendent Beverly Hall and her impending trial.
Some things will forever be a mystery to me. For instance, why do some recipes call for sweet butter (unsalted) and then tell you to add salt to the batter? I have run across many recipes that make that puzzling request.
I told you it took 16 hours to get those pesky columns in a scrapbook and in the right order. How much trouble, you may ask, is it to put tape on the pack of a newspaper clipping, attach it to a sheet of copy paper and slip it into a plastic sleeve?
This time of year, if you are driving outside the city limits, you will usually come across a wide swath of daffodils planted close to the road in front of what may once have been an old home.
This is my 135th column. I aim for about 700 words in each column. That comes to about 95,000 words. I didn't know I had that much to say.
My husband invited me down to his cabin last weekend to see his new additions. Well, he also wanted me to clean and loaded up the vacuum cleaner and various cleansers as well as me for the trip.
My bathtub arrived in the middle of January, two months after it was promised. I was given a date in January when it should arrive in a warehouse in Athens. At that point, I was assured, someone would call me and schedule a delivery.
I don't know what it is with us humans, but we always want more or think the grass is greener on the other side of the fence.
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I wrote a column last summer about my car not starting and having left my cellphone at home. I was stuck, not knowing anyone's number, and had to walk for help.
Last weekend was my husband's birthday. We won't say which one. My out-of-town daughter, son-in-law and grandchildren were here to help my local grandchildren and family celebrate.
I'm still struggling with my new computer. But I am getting there.
Around 20 years ago my bedroom TV committed murder/suicide. It was sitting on a gate leg table whose leaves were folded. The TV was one of those very large and heavy ones, and its weight must have made the table legs begin to separate. That slight tilt led to the TV jumping to its death in the middle of the night, and it took the VCR with it. The crash scared me and my husband to death.
If you didn't attend this year's Monte Carlo for the Arts, the annual fundraiser held by Southern Heartland Arts Inc., you missed a good time. My husband and I thoroughly enjoyed it.
Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. I will get some cards from my children and grandchildren. And I will give them cards, but that's about it. I don't expect fancy flowers and candy from my husband and he doesn't expect presents from me. That doesn't mean we aren't happy with each other; we are. It just means we are happy without the presents.
I walked down my back steps last week and saw a daffodil blooming. I know that in itself is not unusual. What makes it unusual is that it was blooming in the bed of my husband's pickup truck.
An article in the AJC last week noted that $2.7 million was spent by proponents of the charter school amendment as compared with $262,822 spent by those who opposed the amendment. Among those who contributed to the proponent campaign were K12 Inc. and Charter Schools USA, both for profit companies that manage charter schools. Walmart heiress Alice Walton contributed $600,000. Other large contributors were StudentsFirst of Sacramento, Calif., American Federation for Children, PublicSchoolsOptions.org of Arlington, Va. Please notice that very little, if any, of the money spent to advocate for this amendment was local. Also please ...
A new computer has been placed on my desk at The Covington News. Let me correct that, a new-to-me computer.
I got an email from my sister last week reminding me that it was Elvis' birthday, his 78th one to be exact. I have Elvis socks that feature his name and musical notes and a small guitar with his name on it that is a Christmas ornament bought at Graceland. But that's it. My sister has more Elvis memorabilia than anyone I know. It all started on a whim.
The holiday season is over. For the last two months, all I have been doing is making lists. The need for a list usually hits me in the morning when I am sitting at my kitchen table and drinking my morning cup of tea. I have a whole day ahead of me and I try to organize what I need to do for the day. I can't keep as many trains of thought going in my mind as I once could, and I need written reminders. I make lists of the lists. I write on the closest thing at ...
I hate to admit this, but even at my age, I love Legos. I bought Duplos for my children when they were little and enjoyed playing with them. As my children grew, we transitioned into Legos. When my grandchildren came along, I bought more Duplos, and we spent many happy hours with them. I would build a tower, and the granddaughter would knock it down. Then we'd do it all over again and again and again. As they grew older, I bought more complicated Lego sets.
The Lego sets that were available for my children were not as fancy ...
When the student body moved into the building that now houses Newton High School, every classroom had a phone. Those phones hung on the wall, and, in theory, a teacher could call the office if he or she had a question or discipline problem. He could also call another classroom or the library. Supposedly, a teacher could dial some special number and make an announcement that would be broadcast over the loud speaker throughout the school. A principal certainly never answered a call from the classroom, even in an emergency. You might get a secretary who could try to find ...
My husband and I made what I hope is the last effort to denude the yard of leaves right before Christmas. It was either the third or fourth sweep of the yard this year.
My youngest granddaughter asked me for a pair of boots for Christmas. Wanting to clarify her request, I asked if she meant cowboy boots. She looked at me as only a child can look at an adult when the adult has not grasped what is obvious to the child, and she said firmly, "No, grandmamma, cowGIRL boots.