The generations that had had smallpox vaccination scars upon their arms are dying off. That scar might have served as something like a passport to get them into a new country, or it might have allowed them to enter school.
I have a friend who is in love with Bonsai trees. John Weathers probably has about 100 of the tiny trees scattered around his yard. Bonsais are adult trees that have been artificially dwarfed. Some can be very old; the diminutive height has nothing to do with age. Every time they produce a normal-sized leaf, it is carefully pruned. Eventually, the trees stop producing large leaves, growing only miniature ones.
At the family reunion you couldn't always tell which person was the "reunitee." Did that person look like Uncle Luther or Aunt Betty? Or did they just marry someone who looked like Uncle Luther or Aunt Betty? Whatever the case, on some level, everyone was familiar.
The current box office hit is the movie, "Pirates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides." As in all pirate movies, the pirates seek silver coins called "pieces of eight." A piece of eight was an actual Spanish silver coin. Several of them have been found in Columbus and along the Tombigbee.
Many years ago a friend of mine invited me to a pickin' party at his chicken farm out at Steens. His sister, who he said "sang a little," was coming home for a visit. I got there late, after all the pickers had warmed up.
When I first became Mississippi's "makeover guy" some years ago through my weekly newspaper column, in a way I found my calling for the first time. Oh, I had worked with beautiful women in salons for a long time before and have been lucky to do so since, but the notion of helping a woman realize her fullest potential, helping her to feel as beautiful as she already is, now that's a real energizer for me!
"You couldn't pay me to live in the Prairie!" he said. Sam came home and recounted the conversation. "We live in the center of God's country, and he wouldn't live in the Prairie for anything. Can you believe that?"
The death of Dr. William E. Sykes and the love of his family played a major role in the origins of Memorial Day.
I know. I know. No one, but no one, wants to hear about your trip. The thing is, sometimes that's all you know to talk -- or write -- about, and one of those times is now.
It seems the world is still in love with braids. My first introduction to braids came through my kindergarten friends, Renee and Kellie, with their braided pigtails secured on the ends by giant yarn ribbons. Next, and many moons later, it was another Kelli, my brother's girlfriend, whose braided hair would give my heart palpitations.
If you are reading this, then I suppose you are probably still in this dimension, still breathing. Have you noticed anyone missing? Chris and I sat on our porch on "The" Saturday night waiting for something to happen. It seemed to me that traffic on our street was lighter than usual. So we called a few friends just to see if they were still here. All were.
When talking to people in the decorative arts field, I have been surprised at how little is known about Turkish corners.
A friend of mine sent me an email Monday advising me not to waste my time making a trip to Rolling Fork. I had sent him one earlier in the day letting him know that I was going over to witness the historic crest of the Mississippi River. He reported that the levee was closed to all visitors and warned that even if I weren't shot on sight, I would end up in the county lock-up.
It's been a busy and exciting week in "the city with nothing to do." The re-opening of The Hitching Lot Farmers' Market, especially "Family Saturday," was big news for early risers. Last week's Suzuki Strings sounded wonderful! I heard the music rolling through the parking lot before seeing the musicians and thought it was a symphony orchestra.
You say you are a human. Now, prove it. Wait, wait -- it's too easy to point to your face or to perform a tap dance as you sing "Bicycle Built for Two." That will not do at all.
Anywhere in the world, if you are in a group of people chatting, you will find yourself or find someone else talking in a way to attempt to produce laughter in those listening. It seems to be hardwired behavior for us, because it happens in every society we know. Not only do amateur humorists aim to bring laughter to others, professionals can get paid to do so, and the payment comes from people who buy tickets because they so value the laughter experience.
I've been thinking about writing a cookbook called "Cheater Cooking." The idea came to me when I was explaining to the girl at the Shell station why I wanted six chicken nuggets.
With the disastrous flooding in the Delta, some of the major floods of the Tombigbee River come to mind. The most serious floods in Columbus history occurred in 1847, 1892, 1948 and 1973. It is the flood of 1892 that is considered the benchmark.
A few semesters ago I took a class at the W called Creative Non-Fiction. In spite of the course's oxymoronic title it was fun, and I learned a lot. The premise was that all truth is based on point of view. Two people could tell the story of a shared experience and each version would be entirely different.
Recently I went to Trinity Retirement Home's assisted living facility in Columbus to attend the celebration of Lou Trim's 100th birthday. Her daughter, Judy Stewart, was hosting a party.