Smokey Mountain Breakdown

This past week, I had to be in Newport to take care of some business at the courthouse. The courthouse in Newport is like any bitty little Southern town--they are old, usually the largest and grandest building and occupy the central block. There are...

Okay, so I'm back. I took to my bed in despair with the passing of Fat Buddy and haven't written on the blog since.
But things are good. The new "normal" is as follows:
There's someone in my life who will henceforth be known on the blog as "The South American". He's special--and completely urban. Can't chop wood (well, he can now), needs constant supervision around power tools and is really good with numbers. The South...

After fourteen years of snack stealing, unrepentant repetitive barking, trash scrounging, undeserved entitlement and all around outrageous behavior--Fat Buddy has left the building.
He taught me a lot about loving life, despite health challenges--of which he had many. I liked to say that FB was the canine version of me--autoimmune disorders a-go-go and poor impulse control when it comes to all things food. I've nursed him through...

I am turning into my mother’s best friend as I age. Which is just fine, since even as a teenager, I wanted to be just like this nutty woman when I grew older. She was the sort of woman who looked everywhere for her eyeglasses as they sat atop her...