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Columns

  • Harvey Weinstein and me

    When the first accusation against movie producer Harvey Weinstein came out, I wasn't too shocked.

    Most of us have grown up with the stereotyped "casting couch" portrayal of Hollywood.

    Over the years, usually after some bigwig mogul has died, we hear the tales but then it's too late to confront the alleged abuser.

    Bill Cosby has been an exception to that rule. And now Harvey Weinstein.

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  • Williston, Fla.

    I’m Thomas Griffin and I moved my small business to Williston about six months ago.

    I recently attended a meeting on planning the future of Williston. I have also spent some time with numerous small companies in the region and learned this greater area has a very distinct affiliation with craftmanship and heritage.

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  • The Pioneer Woman

    I’m accustomed to power outages.

    In February 1985 while living in the Kentucky mountains, a freak storm dumped 18 inches of snow in a short time and paralyzed the entire region.

    Not only was driving a risk, I was a young mother with a two-year-old, a two-month-old baby and no electricity.

    Our house was drafty on a good day and with an infant, I had to evacuate my home in order to keep the babies warm.

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  • The hair evolution

    What is it with women and their hair?

    Good hair days, bad hair days. We seem to be ruled by the shape, cut and color of our hair.

    The female friends I have who aren't concerned about their hair have done the thing that makes the most sense – they've cropped it close to their heads leaving no question about whether it's a good hair day or not. Every day is the same.

    I wish I were one of those women who didn't worry about their hair. But I'm not.

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  • 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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  • Piper turns one; Andi's a winner

    Birthdays have always been a really big deal in my family.

    Growing up poor, there weren't parties and decorations. Instead my mother always made our favorite dinner and a homemade cake – whatever we wanted.

    When I had children of my own, I was financially better off so there were parties, decorations, cakes, presents. I tried to make each birthday as special as possible because my children are special – and it's their day to celebrate just how extraordinary they are.

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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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