Or, in layman’s terms, a fist.
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I’m guessing you’ve never thought about this before, and until recently, it had been ages since it’d crossed my mind, but I’m going to ask you anyway: What kind of finger-pointer are you? I’m not sure how, but I think it’s probably very important that we ask ourselves this and learn how knowing what type of finger-pointer we are unconsciously dictates our lives. I was first brought to the attention of the power of the finger not, as you might imagine, by a rude driver showing me his emotional state caused by my “granddaddy” style of driving along our nation’s roadways. No,...
I’m not sure if it was a dead animal or just cheese grits.
Filed under: Deep South, Everyday, faith, family, life, writing
They’ve got something with doors, around here. It’s the oddest thing: no double doors are both unlocked, at the same time. Only one side is. Ever. And you never know which side because it’s never the same side. This causes no end of embarrassment, as you can imagine. Especially for me, a new faculty member. Call me crazy but it really is a blow to your credibility when you can’t even open a door properly. It’s happened to me twice already today. This morning as I went to deliver the receipts from my conference trip, I turned back to tell the secretary, “Have a good...
I brought my own microwave, thank you very much.
Filed under: Deep South, Everyday, family, food, health, life, writing
Let me explain how I came to own the microwaveable egg poacher, first. Then, you can make your judgements. I am, as someone once said, a "marketer's wet dream." I'm not sure if or how that could be considered a compliment, but when in doubt, I make everything a compliment, anyway, so... I like to think everyone in the whole world, actually, is talking about me, at any given moment. It makes me feel better. I can't deny that I probably have a problem, like a genuine problem, this time; I'm a walking bank account when it comes to clever advertising and bright...
The lure of the maraschino cherry, and other things I learned this weekend.
Here's what my weekend was like. (Besides, busy). Because busy needs a body. Friday started early, for me. I headed to Jackson to visit with my dear, sweet friend Lora. She's staying for a week at this resort and spa known as the University Medical Center. It's all on account of her cancer diet (her joke, by the way). I stayed there for a good, long time, sharing stories with her about faith, the future, etc. She had quite a busy day: former students, new acquaintances (everyone knows and loves Lora), and pleasant doctors all stopping by to offer well-wishes, and to...
I prefer to shop alone. But let me tell you why.
Not so very long ago, I went shopping. It's usually a love/hate recreational blood sport, for me; when it happens, under the guise of shopping with others, I like to get in, get done, and get out. No holds barred, no time for stragglers, and definitely no time for Buckle employees. I'm not so keen on "group shopping", or "couples shopping." For whatever reason, truth be told, I prefer to shop alone. I can become rather delusional, in my personal shopping, not knowing when to say when. My previous attempts at shopping with others is probably a more normal cycle for a shopper: ...
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