Jay and Dana Mordecai of Columbus announce the birth of their son, Barrett Jay Mordecai, on April 21, 2012, at the Clay County Medical Center.
Air Force Airman 1st Class Jennifer N. Adair graduated from basic military training at Lackland Air Force Base in San Antonio.
In kitchens throughout Columbus, preparation is underway for the annual bake sale to be held in conjunction with St. Paul's Episcopal Church May Luncheon Friday, May 11. The Episcopal Church Women's fundraiser is a major event on the congregation's calendar, for almost everyone takes part in one capacity or another.
On Saturday, CONTACT Helpline will hold its annual fish fry from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. in the Kroger parking lot on Highway 45 North in Columbus.
"Some of these go back years and years," murmured Perrin Smith, shuffling through a stack of well-worn legal pads and spiral notebooks on a coffee table in his den. He kneeled on the floor, thumbing through pages, pausing from time to time when a remembered lyric caught his eye. The notebooks are filled with songs he's written, some finished, some not. There have been hundreds in all. But then, the retired Columbus physician will tell you he always has a song percolating. "Every pocket in my closet has notecards or little notebooks in them because, when something comes to you, you need to write it down then, or it will be flat gone in 10 minutes," he said, moving to an easy chair and hooking one knee comfortably over the padded arm.
Every artist's work is unique, embodying something elemental of its maker, but Dylan Karges' "clay bodies" are a rare sight indeed. It's not often one comes by a mass installation of more than 1,000 ceramic figurines. Each is "deliberately different, though roughly the same," says the Starkville artist and sculptor, who individualizes his characters using small variations in clay composition, texture, size, firing techniques and color.
On Tuesday, May 8, a historically African-American cemetery in Columbus will become the setting for dramatic and musical lessons in local history. Students from the Mississippi School for Mathematics and Science will present the third Eighth of May Emancipation Day History Program in Sandfield Cemetery at 5:30 p.m. and 6:30 p.m. The cemetery is located at the corner of College Street and 25th St. S. The presentations are free and open to the public.
On Friday afternoon a week ago, as I set out to run my errands before the weekend, I decided to take the scenic route to East Columbus down Military Road and Highway 12 to Lehmberg. As I passed Wolf Road to my left, I noticed Beard's Produce that I had frequented in the past. Somehow it had slipped my mind this spring. I adore a good produce stand. There's something just so nostalgic and reminiscent of a simpler time. And so I vowed to swing back by on my way home to pick up a few things for our first summer soiree of the season.
All my bags were packed for my week at the beach, and I had finessed my essential skin creams into a clear quart ziplock bag along with my other toiletries. The dogs were on high alert as I scrambled from room to room checking things off my list. They knew something was up, and they didn't like it.
This upcoming Mother's Day takes on special meaning for Brent Davidson and his mom, Carol Davidson. Since recently deciding to team up commercially, they've made new discoveries about each other and added a fresh dimension to their already-strong bond.
For years, Gail Funderburk moved in the banking world. One of the friendly faces of Trustmark Bank in Columbus, her days were shaped by finite numbers and critical tallies. Her friend, Becky Abrams, spent 22 years in the classroom as a music educator, a joy occasionally weighted by paperwork and regulations. But, enter Act II. Retired and energized, both Funderburk and Abrams are now free to scratch creative itches, a luxury postponed during full-time careers. Today, Funderburk does her adding and subtracting with clay, molding bowls, trays and vessels in a "Jimmy Buffet blue" workshop tucked in the woods of western Lowndes County.
I wish I had a plot. I do not mean a plot of ground; I wish I had a plot for a novel or a play. I know for sure that I have plenty of characters, but so does a dictionary. A dictionary is not really good reading or entertainment.
Standing at the window of my gym looking out onto the beautiful sunny, breezy afternoon in downtown Columbus, I'm struck with the dreaded thought I was sure I'd eradicated from my brain: "I don't want to be here."
In conjunction with the National Day of Prayer May 3, the privately-funded Christian Community Organization invites citizens of Columbus and surrounding areas to join in an observance Thursday outside the Lowndes County Courthouse at 502 Second Ave. N.
When Jim Tucker graduated from S.D. Lee High School in 1952, it's possible he imagined that, six decades later, he might return to Columbus for a milestone class reunion. But he could not have envisioned he'd be sitting beside his daughter, signing books filled with memories from a significant part of his life.
Why do I love things that are old? I am truly fixated on yesterday when it comes to most all things in my everyday life, whether it's the marvelous worn patina of an old mirror or the imperfection of an antique mantle with its chipped, peeling finish.
With beef on the mind, what better time to think about marinades?
Where's the beef? Look no farther than the Lowndes County Cattlemen's Association steak dinner sale Friday and Saturday.
I suppose the old adage that April showers bring May flowers still holds some merit because it's been showering all over my roses in the backyard. It's not even the end of the month, and I am tickled beyond belief that my roses are spilling over with little bursts of tiny colorful buds, like little gifts waiting to be opened by sunlight and more raindrops. I couldn't be more excited.
As much as I adore my husband, he is one of those annoying people who can eat anything he wants, as much as he wants, never work out and still maintain his long, lean physique. What's even more annoying, he can not work out for months, step out the door, and run a 2- mile sprint without breaking a sweat. He even breathes out of his nose the entire time, unlike me -- open-mouthed, gasping for air and dripping with sweat even though I clock eight or more hours of exercise every week. I mean, could he not just pretend to breath hard for my benefit?
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