The rush of the holidays are upon us full force. As grateful as I am to be able to gather with those I love, the occasional blip of activity that reminds me of the pace of life before wearies me these days. I’m out of social practice.
Certainty is overrated, of this I am sure.
Twenty years ago this week, my family and I moved to Lafayette. It is the longest I’ve ever lived anywhere. My children have grown up here — so have I. I am all about taking in a place, doing all the things, going all the places, but there are so …
Fourteen summers ago, my husband, daughters and I headed north to Arkansas to visit a friend. Who knew the visit would eventually lead to a country song?
In reality, I only spent five or six nights at Camp Wahi — time that ended up making a big impression.
Peeling back the curtain on the social media version of life, Wednesday of last week did not go as planned.
When my friend David D’Aquin texted me around 10 a.m. Sunday morning, he asked what I had going on. Having just finished one semester of grad school two days earlier and about to start a new semester the next day, I told him that it was my first d…
This week has been a reminder that it takes a village — not just to raise a child, but sometimes to get by as an adult. The week has also been a reminder of the value of big friendships, the topic of a 2020 book by Aminatou Sow and Ann Friedman.
The Indigo Girls weren’t fibbing.
Two weeks ago, Nancy Engberg, a friend from Wisconsin, joined 16 women and me to raft the Salmon River. Last week, I mentioned a miracle on the river. Engberg was a principle player in those events. She’s quick to add that for her the real miracle…
Outdoorsy is not a word my friends or family would use to describe me.
Both of my children are in college, so I decided to join them. In June, I started grad school with West Virginia University as a NewStart Fellow, working toward a masters in Media Innovations and Solutions.
We headed out in the nick of time to get ahead of the worst of the evacuation gridlock, believing we knew where Ida was headed but recognizing the inherent lack of certainty that comes with a hurricane.
My home has a tide. Relics from years ago make their way to the surface eventually. Last week, one of my favorite memories fought its way from the back of a drawer into my view and hands. I had forgotten there was photographic evidence of that day…
Based on experiences in a previous life, long ago, I vowed never to camp again. C-A-M-P was a four-letter word. I did not partake.
Elise Peltier Boutin was a college student when she interned nearly 15 years ago at a local newspaper with me as her editor. Now, she’s a mother of four and an English teacher at Rayne High School. This year she will teach senior English to 120 students.
If you haven’t tried the Living Room Olympics, you’ve still got time.
I got an Apple Watch back in 2015 shortly after they came out. I’ve worn it almost every day since. The fitness app of the watch has three rings that measure how many steps I take, how many hours I stand and the number of minutes I exercise and mo…
In another life a thousand miles away, I hosted a local radio/television cooking show. I hosted this show right before food television really took off. We moved to Louisiana when my show was at its modest zenith.
On July 4, my South African friends were sending me messages asking if I could help get them on “America’s Got Talent.”
I love a good neighbor — and have been blessed with some of the best. In three of my homes across the country and decades, I’ve been able to create amazing bonds with the children next door, down the stairs or across the street. By doing nothing m…
My dad loves red, white and blue.
Greer, my 23-year-old daughter was so happy when I suggested taking the free tram back to the car.
If the phrase “making memories” works for you, please keep right on using it.
“From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler” by E.L. Konigsburg was my favorite novel growing up. One of the reasons I loved the book when I first read it in the sixth grade was that Konigsburg gave her readers credit. She recognized and…
I had been planning all week to host a group of ladies for a potluck dinner and a meeting. They were to arrive between 6 and 6:30 p.m.
They did not get off to an early start.
Identifying the bones within that make us do the things we do as adults is a curious thing — like an anthropological dig within ourselves, our spirits, our souls.
On All Saints Day, I had a difficult-to-translate problem. My family was in another place in the cemetery and I had no place to put my purse.
Time and again, reading has saved me.
I am not and have never been a coffee drinker.
For all its beauty, last spring had a pall of grief tucked in here and there between the blooming flowers and dappled light. We didn’t know what was here or what was coming — and it was scary.
A few months ago, I crashed a party.
My family isn’t good at celebrating Easter the way some folks do.
Late one night last week, my husband walked over to me, handed me a folded piece of paper and said, “I think your boyfriend left this for you in the mailbox.”
When our daughters were tiny and could barely talk, we started going around the table after dinner and each telling our individual highlights of the day. Most nights, just our family of four shared. Other nights, a whole gang of friends were sitti…
I always walk by this particular house, but until one afternoon a couple of weeks ago, I had never seen anyone there. On that afternoon, as I was walking by, a small voice shouted, “You wanna see my millipede?”
My friend Amee Miles Merkle is a hospital clinical pharmacist in northern Mississippi. When she heard COVID vaccinations were being rolled out for senior citizens and then that “the whole system is online,” she saw a need.
My dear aunt and uncle, Doris and Mack Greer, have lived as isolated throughout the pandemic as I have. So when I went home to visit my parents last fall in Forest, Mississippi, I didn’t hesitate to visit my aunt and uncle.
As 2020 progressed, so many people talked about how they were looking forward to the year being done, as if a new day, a new month, a new year would change things.
I’m not sure if the thunderstorm started before or after the big program on the last night of cheerleader camp.
Last week, I took an informal, unscientific survey of friends asking two questions. The first: “After almost a year of living differently, what do you look most forward to when we are able to live more freely again?”
When the pandemic started in the spring of 2020, I began to take daily walks. Back then, I sometimes took three or four walks a day because I didn’t know what to do with all the energy I had previously used in other ways. My walks have helped save…
Storytelling always draws me in.
The pandemic has been a strange combination of tedium and disruption.
The year we’ve finished has had more than its share of pain and loss. For some, specific pains 2020 brought will require deep healing. This column does not seek to diminish their grief in any way.
At any time, but especially in these times, silliness is not to be underrated — neither is the willingness to put yourself out there, to laugh at yourself and to know you may be inspiring others to join in the fun.
Volunteers live faith, Cajun values as they provide a lifeline to immigrants released from detention
One of my favorite verses is Hebrews 13:2. “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.” The verse always makes me consider the Christmas story and the innkeeper who found a stable for Mary and Josep…
I asked friends this week what they’ve learned during the pandemic.