The renowned bow maker in my hometown died. Only in the South would this probably be news because we Southern women do admire a package well wrapped.
The way she was was a long way from what she became. I can't help thinking about how life veers so far away from the beginning of the journey and how the destination can vary drastically from where it all started.
It was a long, and very worthwhile, walk to observe the grave of Tink's great-great grandfather.
Farming knows no boundaries. Cows are born on the rainiest days and get out, usually scattering into the road, in the darkest of nights, water lines burst on the coldest days and tractors break down in the field under the most scorching sun.
For those who have no idea how good they've got it, how blessed they are in life, introduce to them to the other folks.
We've all got stories, we just don't all turn them into books. But that's not to say we shouldn't.
Somehow I ran across an out-of-print book called "The Last Lap." It is now 15 years old but tells an intriguing, timeless tale of the early days of America's first stock car racers.
You can't buy history like this. You can't earn it, either. You just have to thank the good Lord for giving you the gift of a small town family.
The soft lighting had hidden the ground-in dirt on his face. He exited the hotel which sits in downtown Memphis near the river and there he met up with another man who looked like him. Homeless, no doubt.
With Mother's Day here again, my thoughts drift back to Mama and how she put me through college.
The truth isn't always pretty. Or easy. But it certainly gives respect to those who tell it.
When it comes to remembering things, it's funny how the mind works.
At a garage sale, that bowl would bring no more than a nickel or a dime, bought by someone who would use it for dog food or fertilizer or such. But from me, you couldn't buy it for a million dollars.
Though I come from hardscrabble folks where education was a luxury, they had enough learning to know that others should be treated with decency and respect.
In churches like ours, the men gather on one side and the women on the other so they can sing parts and blend deliciously together. To me, it is simply beautiful to hear songs like "I'll Fly Away" or "When We All Get To Heaven" sung with such gusto, almost always ending with a soprano refrain.