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Columns

  • It was always Vanessa

    I was 9 when my older brother, Eugene, married Vanessa; 10 when they made me an aunt with the birth of David and almost 19 when they divorced – now the parents of three sons.

    It was a hard divorce for me even though I was away at college.

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  • Confessions of a shoe-aholic

    Next to bacon and coffee, shoes have to be my favorite tangible things in this life, because no matter matter how many doughnuts, Reese's Cups and pounds of bacon I consume, my feet remain virtually unchanged.

    I wear a 7 1/2 – and I have since high school. Occasionally now I'll buy an 8 though if the shoe doesn't come in my size and I just have to have it. It also helps with the swelling after a long 14-hour day.

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  • The race is on

    How can you not know I am over-the-top crazy about my two granddaughters?

    Facebook friends get a liberal dose of their cuteness, almost on a daily basis.

    My office is covered in their beautiful little faces.

    I have 1,800 pictures on my cell phone and 1,700 are of them.

    Talk about any subject and one, if not both, of them can be incorporated into the conversation.

    Yes, I'm a doting grandmother.

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  • A brother like no other

    I lacked three months being four years old when he was born. Memories are sketchy from that period of my life, but I remember with absolute clarity the morning after he was born.

    We lived in a small four-room house heated with two free-standing coal stoves.

    I remember Daddy putting me in the high chair between the cook stove and back door as he rushed to make oatmeal and toast before he and I set out to visit my new baby brother.

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  • Yes, I'm a journalist

    I’ve been seriously writing since I was 10 years old. I knew at 12 it’s what I wanted to do to earn a living.

    By the time I was 17 and poring over college catalogs, I knew I had to major in something besides romance novel writing because no one pays you right out of the chute to write bodice-ripping novels.

    That’s how I came to journalism and it’s where I’ve stayed almost my entire life, except for a brief stint as a property tax appraiser.

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  • As good as it gets

    I once kept a journal. I wrote in it every day, even if it was only a sentence that summarized the day.

    Then I had two babies under two years old, and the entries became less frequent.

    When those babies started school, I entered the workforce full-time and between home and work, there wasn't much time for writing – other than what I got paid for.

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  • If it's December then I'm already done-in

    It's only Dec. 5 and I'm ready to throw in the towel.

    Despite all my good intentions, time is getting away from me and there's no way to recoup what I've lost and no way to get ahead of what needs to be done.

    It all started back in November – Veterans Day to be exact.

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  • Their stories need to be told

    The first time I came to Williston was Veterans Day 2005.

    I was living and working in Chiefland and I volunteered to cover an event in Heritage Park.

    I didn't know what to expect. I'd been in Florida about three months and had never even ventured to Williston.

    I was not disappointed.

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  • It's not funky without 'fun'

     When Tom and I started traveling more by air than land for our vacations, I learned quickly how important it is to be organized and how essential it is to cram as much as you can carry when you board a plane.

    We were in an airport somewhere when I spied what I thought was the perfect solution – an Ogio backpack that didn't look as if I were ready for the Appalachian Trail.

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  • It's who we are

    I've always been a traditionalist. I suppose that goes along with not liking surprises. I like knowing what's going to happen. I don't like guessing about what ifs and I like having a plan of action.

    I've become a little less rigid since Tom and I have been married, because he is the Master of Spontaneity. He likes nothing better than hitting the open road and searching for hotels at midnight. 

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