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Columns

  • Far from home

    Susan Howell  

    On an early December morning, I awoke some 10,000 odd miles from my own backyard, to the unfamiliar sound of wild birds that filled the Australian sky as the sun rose on Manly Beach, a hustling coastal suburb in Sydney Australia. 

  • Enchanted

    By Susan Howell

  • How I slept through Christmas and suddenly it was 2013

     Everyone who knows me understands that the time between Thanksgiving and New Year is my time. I relish the season for so many different reasons and actually anticipate it like a child.

  • A reason, a season, a lifetime

     The year was 2008. Tom had just moved to Florida, we were living in a duplex in Chiefland and the time was right to start looking for a house.

    We both worked in Chiefland but Harriett Downs’ ad on the back of the Williston Pioneer spoke to us one week when the right house at the right price said, “Call.”

  • Filty rich and lovin' it

    By the time you read this, I will not be a millionaire. I did not win the Powerball–again.
    But then again, I never bought a ticket. This time or ever.
    I know. I know. You can’t win if you don’t play. It never occurs to me to buy a ticket–not even when the jackpot is half a billion dollars.
    What does occur to me is how I would spend that money. I daydream about it. Often.
    A few minutes ago while I was on break, I drifted off into that place where life is idyllic, I’m a size 10 and I am the Powerball winner.

  • I didn't even know I had a bucket list

    Let’s face it. I’m not a spring chicken.
    I have three adult children, two of whom have solid careers while the other is finishing his senior year of college.
    I don’t have grandchildren, but I’m definitely old enough to have a passel. I could even have a couple who could be as old as 12. But remember, I don’t.
    I’m not fit and thin and my eyebrows spotted gray two years before I found my first one in my head this past January.
    Indeed, I am old.

  • Spare me the small talk

    I enjoy lively, spirited conversation. And in order to enjoy that, I have to like being around people.
    No doubt in anyone’s mind, I am a people-person. I  come by it naturally because everyone–and I mean everyone–on my father’s side of the family was blessed with the gift of gab.
    At family gatherings it was difficult at the end of the day to figure out just what you may have gleaned from each other because topics were loud, broad and scattered.

  • Embrace the change

    Over 132 years ago when Williston residents needed a news source, someone stepped up to the printing press and rolled off the first edition of what would one day become the Williston Pioneer.
    Through the years, the paper that was founded as the Levy County Times has undergone many changes: owners, editors, names, staff and sizes.
    But what hasn’t changed in 132 years is the newspaper’s position that it will be the best news source for Williston and the surrounding area.

  • The critic I always wanted to be

    When best friend Denise and I hit the road, misadventure is sure to follow.
    Now that 500 miles separate us, those road trips are rarer but they’re still something to bank on.
    These days, the misadventures tend to be more with my husband and though I am loathe to admit it, it seems the common denominator is none other than me.
    Our recent weeklong trip–about 1,800 miles–through Georgia, South Carolina,  North Carolina, Tennessee, Virginia and at last, Kentucky was again fraught with misadventure, albeit minor ones.

  • Breaking back in

    By Bryan Hoopaugh