Sumptuous Sunday dinners - meaning lunches - are a legend in Southern culture. Moms who could ready themselves, husbands and a household of children - eight in our family - for Sunday school and church, plus prepare a table full of Southern fare to be eaten right after church, were multitasking before the word was invented.
Just shy of her 99th birthday, Elizabeth Ellis of Oxford died Monday.
An oft-quoted saying goes, "I want to be the kind of person my dog thinks I am."
The Covington News office is conveniently located for its local government reporters within easy walking distance of city hall, the Historic Courthouse and the county administration building. Today Gabe Khouli holds down that beat, but before Gabe, there was Rachel Oswald, trudging those well-worn paths and developing far more friends and admirers of her work than enemies. She was back in town this week for a visit with some of those friends.
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.
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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."
Wasn't it all just too beautiful? Wasn't it just perfect? Aren't they a handsome couple? Doesn't she have the most winning smile? And didn't that Irish Guards uniform fit him grandly? I am, of course, referring to last week's wedding of Prince William and Kate Middleton. Millions around this country, I among them, got up excruciatingly early to view the royal vows. I'll concede here and now to a fascination with all things about the ...
The ghostly visage of a grand four-columned, two-story home alone in a broad field of alfalfa appears in a photograph likely taken sometime in the first quarter of the 20th century. It sat beyond the eastern edge of Covington, now at the end of Floyd Street and behind the Newton County Library, but at the time the house was built -sometime between 1910 and 1918, it is thought - Floyd Street went only as far ...
My head spins. My eyes cross. My neck tightens. I find it hard to draw a deep breath, and my hands tremble uncontrollably.
If there were a Vogue magazine for cities, Covington would have been on its cover Wednesday. There couldn't have been a finer day for showcasing our little burg to 50or so state officials, downtown professionals, developers and foundation representatives who arrived for the Heart and Soul bus tour.
Last week, I wrote about how current affairs and catastrophes in this world -outside our ability to predict or comprehend - suggest to some that we surrender all pretense of control and turn to things of the spirit - those things that change not despite the contractions and contortions of the world: love, truth, compassion, care and forgiveness.
Waiting. And waiting. And waiting. It's a part of life as surely as breathing, eating, drinking and sleeping. Sometimes it seems we spend half our days waiting for something expected to occur. We wait for the phone to ring with some news, good or bad. We wait for the mail truck to arrive. We wait for the cleaning to be ready. We wait for the bill to come so that it can be paid with ...
Pat Conroy's latest book is one of my favorites. It's entitled "My Reading Life," and in 15 chapters, he recounts all of those individuals, starting with his mother, and teachers of one sort or another who taught him the love of language, the power in words and the ability of books to change lives. Those lessons have defined and driven his life.
Most everybody around here knows 95-year-old Charlie King, and if you don't know him personally, you've at least heard of Newton County's amiable historian emeritus. Oh, the tales he can tell about almost anyone and everything that's gone on in town since he was born here in 1915.
The first time I saw the little black dog, he was a blur streaking down the street past our house with our black and white border collie in hot pursuit.
The word "family" usually evokes only the warmest and fondest feelings of which we are capable.