Categotry Archives: Personal

Dress­ing up for Halloween!

Oliver will be Salvador Dali and Emmett is Andy Warhol. Both will sport paint splattered shirts, carry a paint brush and palette, and a sign on their back. Emmett’s sign? Your Fifteen Minutes Are Up, of course. Ollie’s I haven’t decided upon — probably something like – I’m not hampered by a persistence of memory. Manufactured costumes at WalMart would run around $50 for the two boys. Insane! So Nana said, in jest, “Bring the boys over here and let […]

the lovely Jane sings at Back­wa­ter Jacks

Everyone loves it when Jane sings and now it’s online. Please note: this performance is after ONE, yes, ONE rehearsal just a few days earlier. Jane learned this song in less than 48 hours! go jane go jane go

A Response to Gabriel Winant’s Arti­cle in Slate

“The revolution the South forgot. Life is grim today for Southern workers, and it has a lot to do with a massacre many have forgotten.” The article is spot on. This is not a debate against or opposed to Mr. Winant’s article. I’ll quote some of its salient points it in a bit but first I have a reaction, a gut-level local reaction. Yesterday, here in my little town in North Carolina, the Rural South which bears all the stereotypes […]

East­ern NC and Hurricane Earl

Email to Amanda: Those damn NOAA folks have changed the CONE. We can’t obsess over the literal drawing of a cone, and an uncertain one at that. I adored the “cone of uncertainty” aspect of hurricane living. Well, screw them. Jane is in high hurricane mode, getting ready to leave town if necessary and all that. Having little kids really changes your dynamic from public servant EMT to private servant…. Me? I, like you, have only myself to worry about […]

Dou­ble Hur­ri­cane, what does it mean?

Dammit, I don’t have time for a stupid hurricane right now. Earl begone and take Fiona with you. We still have gunk on the front porch ready to go to storage and then there’s this whole drying out under the house thing going on, too. And there’s not a decent flashlight in the house, even though over 200 C-batteries currently live in the pine cupboard due to an over-stocking mishap last month. So Fiona and Earl need to keep veering […]

Art and Menopause: The Politics of Hot Flashes

I speak, of course, of the “body politic.” It’s a pun and a terrible one at that. After quizzing several artist friends of similar age to my own, I’ve come to a startling conclusion.

Chapter One/standalone

Dancing with Uncle Virgil Chapter One Mama puts the Classified Section of the newspaper on the kitchen table and starts circling ads. She puts numbers beside them so we’ll know the order of the sales according to the intrigue of their ad. When it’s my turn to map out the Saturday route, I go for neighborhoods. A logical driving sequence, I go from Point A to Point B. But that’s not for Mama. She goes from Point A to Point […]