The word tax is a three-letter word that might as well be a four-letter word these days.
Cook, author and TV personality Nathalie Dupree is long gone from these parts, having been carted away to endlessly charming Charleston by husband Jack Bass, chronicler of Southern history. Still, she retains devoted fans and many friends here since she ran "Nathalie's at Mt. Pleasant Village" and lived in Social Circle.
Little is left to the imagination these days. The ever deeper probing of scientists is removing any mystery from life and banishing the unknown and heretofore unknowable.
There are things - plenty of things - I just don't get.
Take a life, any life, even your own. Write down all the known facts and documentation of that life, much but not all of it taken from public record: birth, parents, hometown, siblings, education, college transcripts, career, titles, marriage, children, divorce, volunteer positions, achievements, military service, address, church membership, diaries, daybooks and perhaps old letters retained by the sender or recipient.
An imaginative sort who spies a bright red fire truck parked outside a church might think one of two things: Either the congregants are burning up with the Holy Spirit and keep a fire truck on hand to cool things down once in a while, or the truck is a warning the fires of hell are close unless they toe the line.
"What hath night to do with sleep?" wrote John Milton in
We are constantly admonished to live in the moment and decried if we appear to be living in the past. The past is behind us and cannot be changed. The future lies ahead, unpredictable and out of our control.
There are many heroes walking among us. Sometimes we know them, but many times we don't. And even if we know their names, we may not realize why they are heroes and how our community is better because of them.
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There's something about August in the mountains that appeals to me, no less than the beach calls to me in October. By August, we all start to breathe a little easier, knowing the majority of the heat is behind us but also knowing that high temperatures will continue to bedevil us for at least another month. In August, there seems to be a subtle shift in consciousness that occurs in my head, even in nature, ...
Take one disgruntled trails supporter and point her toward a little town where a river runs through it, and you've got the makings of a whole new definition for the word "trail." Just call it a "blue trail," the wet equivalent of a multi-purpose trail. The disgruntled trails supporter is creative Covington resident Kimberly Brown; the little town is Porterdale, where the word "never" is never uttered; and the river is the Yellow River, for ...
For most of us most of the time, the days of our lives go rolling along placidly and maintain a predictable pace. The paper arrives at 5:30 a.m. The garbage truck comes on, say, Thursdays, and most of us manage to get the Herby Curby out the night before. (It's hit or miss here.) The laundry gets picked up on Saturdays, and Wednesday is Senior Citizen's Day at the local grocery.
Think about it: Do you ever go through your days or weeks responding to situations or to the people in your life as if you were a robot? My answer, regrettably, would be "yes." I'm definitely not a pilot, but you could call me an "autopilot." My responses, decisions and actions often derive from instinct or intuition, habit, cues from the people with whom I come in contact or commonly perceived expectations in certain situations.
You've got to give it to Bill Hoosen. He's a bold, well-spoken retiree and Newton County resident who's unafraid to stand up to the Board of Commissioners when he thinks they're about to vote into law a budget that he believes will harm the county.
"It is what it is." The line may not have been original, but when a character played by Leonard DiCaprio in the movie "Blood Diamond" uttered it, it seared itself into my consciousness. It was one of the "Aha" moments that Oprah has popularized.
These days we don't use an alarm clock. Instead, we are shocked into consciousness by the frantic scratching by one of the cats at the bedroom door or the muffled whimper of Sonny the Border Collie, ready for us to get up and relieve him from the overnight company of the kitties. (We finally booted them out of the bedroom when their sleep patterns - mostly nonexistent - didn't match ours.)
Exactly a week ago, Covington was bracing for a storm as dusk was coming on. Tree-bending winds whipped through town, thunder made the rafters shudder, and we expected a torrent of rain to follow, possibly a damaging combination of heavy rain and hail and ferocious winds.
It should have been a simple evening based on a casual suggestion that six of us go out to dinner on a Wednesday night. But it turned out to be anything but simple.
Ah, Summer! Well, almost. Our spring has been a hot and dry one, a foretaste of a typical Georgia summer. We know what we're in for: endless heat, record-breaking temperatures, drought that's more and more a seasonal reality. But then there are blessings such as the bounty of fruits and vegetables our local farmers are producing for us, freedom from the classroom, freedom to indulge in purely pleasurable activities like swimming every day, camping, the ...
Here we go again. Yet another public office holder - a New York Congressman - has been caught in and disgraced by an egregious and revolting lapse in judgment, to put it mildly. I won't go into the details, but it involved his Twitter account.
It's not as if I were planning a trip to Germany this summer, but being a vegetarian, I would give it a wide berth for now. Some 1,500 people who live there or who have visited there recently have been sickened by one of the world's largest ever outbreaks of a heretofore unknown E. coli infection that has killed 18, making it the deadliest outbreak in history. Suspicion is pointing toward imported lettuce, tomatoes and ...
"How're you doing?" "What's up?" "Nice to see you!" "Pleased to meet you!" How easily we toss off such comments in the course of a day to everyone from the dry cleaner to the vegetable stand clerk, even to our own family and friends. No matter how sincerely meant, such terms are but acceptable shorthand for actually connecting with another human being. We are then excused politely from making any deeper effort to know - ...
So what's a broken vase here and there? The same for a dried arrangement or two. It's really only a few pulled threads on that new sweater.The screen on the kitchen window really didn't do anything but keep out the flies and mosquitoes. And why cry over the shredded arm of that upholstered chair? They're only "things." And cats will be cats. Being cats means being a bit destructive, also deadly, ...
An old English nursery rhyme from the 16th century begins with the words: "If wishes were horses, then beggars (or poor men) would ride."