In all the scenarios I’ve ever considered when imagining surviving a global crisis, I never envisioned enduring such a thing with the sun shining, a mild breeze blowing, easy access to my temperature-controlled home, a comfortable sofa, full pantr…
Three weeks ago, I was talking to a friend as I ran from one meeting to the next. She was doing the same. We were both exhausted from going so fast, having obligations right and left and being spread in so many directions. We talked about the lack…
Last year, I read a book by Sofia Segovia called “The Murmur of Bees.” Originally written in Spanish and translated into English, the story is set during the Spanish influenza pandemic of 1918. When I read the book, I was struck by how little I kn…
I was pushing my shopping buggy by the broccoli when it happened.
Last spring, I won a writing fellowship. It was a thing of beauty and gave me the opportunity to focus on writing and have less responsibility than I’ve had in decades. Additionally, I made great friends with my cohorts.
For the past 20 years, my dad has had a series of Rottweilers — three, to be exact.
My mom called right after the game ended.
Our oven went out with a bang in November. Getting a new one has, much to our surprise, turned out to be more complicated than expected. I took our oven for granted. I didn’t even know it was what is called a downdraft oven. Now, I understand more…
Having a king cake party was not an original idea, but a lack of originality takes nothing away from the experience. My friends and I are not complaining.
Recognizing that life is changing in real time imbues a curious quality to the every day.
Last week, we invited friends to join us for a Henry Ford-style assembly line tamalada, which is a bigger production than those who have not participated might imagine. Even so, in my mind, there is no question as to who does the hard work.
The Vermilion River runs alongside the edge of my backyard. Watching the river run is one of the greatest gifts of my life. I believe one of the unfortunate planning aspects of Lafayette is that more people don’t have access to public places to si…
Around these parts, those with birthdays this week get short changed. No matter how hard I try as a mom, celebrating Piper, my younger daughter’s birthday, which falls a few days before Christmas, does not match the rest of the family birthday cel…
Some of my favorite days are the ones that take me places I never expected. Wednesday was one of those days. I left my house headed for Baton Rouge, with the primary intent of beating the 5 p.m. traffic. Instead, I found myself at Mel’s Diner on J…
Two weeks ago, I read about an unusual astrological event called the Unicorn Meteor Shower. I realized from the start that an astronomer had given an ancient rare phenomenon a cool name to get it attention — and it worked. I read about the meteor …
Based on the impact Camp Wahi made, I have a difficult time believing I only went there for a one-week session long ago. The week made a serious impression and continues to enrich my life.
I should have stopped her and explained the real definition of sappy, but she was on a roll. Piper, our 17-year-old daughter, and I were discussing November as National Adoption Month.
I’ve had the lyrics for a country song rolling around in my head for 12 years.
Both of my daughters, ages 17 and 22, believe they are in their own words, “woke.” Like every generation before them, they believe they have insights and are enlightened in the ways of the world that are simply unattainable for either of their par…
In full disclosure, I have never watched a single episode of ESPN's "College GameDay." However, this season, thanks to my friend, Matt Jones, I’ve had a vested interest in the show, particularly in what the commentators are wearing.
Two weeks ago, I wrote a column about the biscuits my mother made nearly every morning of my childhood, their deliciousness, their being my ultimate comfort food. I also admitted that though I love cooking and am typically willing to try anything,…
Piper, our 17-year-old daughter, appreciates her vehicle more than most.
I am not an early riser by nature, but on Wednesday morning, I voluntarily got up at 6:15 a.m. My mama, Nelda Risher, was visiting and made homemade biscuits. She had already buttered the hot-out-of-the-oven-cast-iron-skillet-cooked biscuits.
After 10 weeks at sea, on Oct. 12, 1492, a sailor aboard the Pinta, one of Christopher Columbus’ sailing ships, saw land. In recent years, much of the glory bestowed upon Columbus for centuries has dissipated. Even still, thanks to Columbus, this…
My phone blipped to let me know an old friend sent a message. I was between meetings and had a few minutes to spare. I hadn’t seen her for a while and was looking forward to hearing from her. Her message read:
Some people, my husband included, believe that if they were cloned and passed their clone walking down the street, they would not recognize themselves.
When I saw her walking toward me, I couldn’t quite read the message on her T-shirt. I was at the book store, with good options all around for my next book to read. I did not anticipate an adolescent’s T-shirt to be the thing that stuck with me mos…
As Piper, the baby of our family, launches her senior year of high school, I’ve decided to make it my mission to keep our kitchen sink clean.
With our recent trip to Hong Kong paired with all the news of the island city-state’s general unrest, I’ve thought a lot about Oak Ridge, Tennessee.
After 26 years of unrequited emotion, a quarter horse named Inseparable Love finally brought us together.
The past week has been a sad one. On occasion, I’ve felt the need to retreat to my mental and emotional happy place.
Sitting in Singapore, my 17-year-old daughter, Piper, and I are reflecting on the many things we’ve learned along the way of our trip to Asia. It has been an epic trip, taking Piper back to her hometown where we adopted her nearly 17 years ago. We…
The relationship between time and travel boggles the mind.
The exterior windowsill beside my desk has been dirty for longer than I’d care to admit.
Seventeen summers ago, we were making plans.
Even for those of us long out of school, summer offers a shift in schedule that makes for more time for reading — which makes me a happy girl.
Girls trips are trickier to coordinate than one might expect. However, I have three friends with whom I believe we have figured out a system that works well. The four of us have been friends for 15 years. We all met working together at a newspaper…
Some of my friends have an over-the-top supper club. Thankfully, they invite me on occasion. Two weeks ago, one of them hosted a themed summer picnic supper club. My husband and I were lucky enough to be included. As backyard gardeners, my friends…
I spend too much time thinking about what could change the world for the better. I also love to read. Perhaps a local group of women (of which, in full disclosure, I am a part) has come up with something that could use reading to make the world a …
Seventy-five years ago this week, a 21-year-old Lee Louis Bernard drove a Sherman tank off a boat, into water that was too high and onto the beach of Normandy. These days, the 96-year-old Bernard rides his electric chair up and down the sidewalks …
Home again. Home again. Jiggety jig.
The tiny leaves on the aspen trees outside my studio here in Wyoming are new. They remind me of my 11th grade English teacher, Donna McLean, and Robert Frost’s poem “Nature’s First Green is Gold.”
Years ago, when I was not quite 30 years old, I went home to Mississippi to visit my parents. At some point during that visit, I sat on a green-velvet covered stool in my mother’s bathroom as she attempted to fix my hair. She had been brushing it …
I am not one of those evolved people who appreciates eating in restaurants alone.
Easter morning is the perfect time to consider the events of the past few weeks — those close to home and those far away. On this day in particular, many of us can’t help but think of the legendary phoenix, the mythical bird that dies in a fiery f…
Lately, I’ve been living in that just-before-something-big-is-about-to-happen zone.
On a recent visit to New York for work, I ended up staying in Secaucus, New Jersey, for the first three nights of my visit.
Wednesday night after dinner, my 17-year-old daughter, Piper, posed a challenge. She asked how many songs could I sing (which she defined as knowing at least a verse and the chorus) that had the words memory, remember or remind in the lyrics.
I was late getting on board watching the "Great British Baking Show." Even so, my newfound devotion is sincere. Since January, the show has been a source of comfort when the rest of the world is full of so much madness and meanness.
Some of my favorite moments are the ones when either of my daughters sits at our piano and plays her heart out, oblivious to the rest of the world. Those moments make me realize how fleeting childhood is — maybe because I remember being the kid si…