The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry. ― Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms There was … Continue reading Reflection: No Use Crying
Sitting on the screen porch in my Adirondack chair a couple of weeks ago, wrapped in a fleece blanket, I felt like somebody must’ve on an oceangoing ship in the last century, reclining in one of those graceful wood steam liner chairs. Maybe it wasn’t quite warm enough to be outside on the deck, so the attendant came around with a blanket and some hot … Continue reading Reflection: Good Neighbors and Bad, and Even Famous Ones
I read a quote recently that goes something like, people who knew the older version of you would not recognize who you are now. This might be true, although I believe a person’s essence never changes, and by that I mean, warts tend to hang around—but so does what’s good in each of us, I think, and the good can even blossom if we let … Continue reading Through the Lens: A Rare Glimpse Into an Old Version of Me
There are stretches of busy highway here and elsewhere in coastal North Carolina where dwellings long abandoned stand in various states of ruin; some are so far gone an observer must look closely to find any evidence at all of the built structure nature seems intent to reclaim. Nor is it unusual for glossy new shopping centers or prosperous neighborhoods to pop up on either … Continue reading Reflection: Forgotten Dwellings, Untold Stories
I need a vacation from the vacation.” It was The Chef’s answer to me after we wrapped up our Thanksgiving travel, when I asked how he was feeling ahead of his first day back at work, just a few hours away. We had five glorious days off, five consecutive days, where our agenda was possibly a tad too ambitious. Heading over to Asheville to spend … Continue reading Sunday Almanac: Thanksgiving 2023 Is in the Books
It is Monday, the first full day in my week-long visit to Dad’s place down in Chattanooga, to his comfortable house in the suburbs (more properly in Ringgold, just over the Georgia state line) he shares with Sheryl, his lovely wife of many years. These travel plans have been in the works since way back in the fall; Sheryl and her two daughters who straddle … Continue reading Reflection: A Father’s Day Gift
What is it about permanence that is so alluring on the one hand, and so vexing on the other. When my kiddo was tiny, he developed an appetite for drawing and coloring with permanent markers because they were forbidden. If his tiny fingers found their way around a Sharpie, in short order I’d have to pry it loose and then replace it with a less-desirable … Continue reading Reflection: The Places That Mark Us Indelibly
Tabby is a type of concrete made by burning oyster shells to create lime, then mixing it with water, sand, ash and broken oyster shells. —Wikipedia “Maybe we ought to build a wall instead of a fence.” The words spilled out of me suddenly as they’re wont to do, even though the thought had been knocking around in my head for a while. Chef David … Continue reading Sunday Almanac: We Need Lowcountry Tabby Concrete
My Great-Grandmother Grace was born in 1899, died in 1991, and lived her entire life, as far as I know, in Knoxville, Tennessee. She was not so much a Southerner as an Appalachian, a flavor of Tennessean native to the eastern region of the state known as ‘hill country’ (hence ‘hillbilly’) because of its proximity to the Great Smoky Mountains—the particular stretch of the Appalachian … Continue reading A Mother’s Day Reflection: Great-Grandmother Grace
Carolina Thinklings 