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Columns

  • Never a ‘daddy’s girl’ but forever his daughter

    He was always Daddy. While many children outgrow the baby name for their fathers, I never did. He was never Father, Da, Pops, Dad or Papa. He was always Daddy and this year marks the 18th Father’s Day that I haven’t bought a card, made his favorite German chocolate cake or called him to say I love you.
    That hurts. Although time has made his death more bearable, there is still an ache that cannot be assuaged, a longing that rips at my heart almost every day and a void that will never be filled.

  • Love is ageless

    As I write this, it is Clint Eastwood’s 81st birthday. How can that be? I asked myself when I first read it.
    Surely that cannot be right. Rowdy Yates is an old man? No  . . .
    But then I looked at his birth year and it hit me. Hard.
    The man I adored when I was a child is a year older than my father.
    Is that possible?

  • Love is ageless

    As I write this, it is Clint Eastwood’s 81st birthday. How can that be? I asked myself when I first read it.
    Surely that cannot be right. Rowdy Yates is an old man? No  . . .
    But then I looked at his birth year and it hit me. Hard.
    The man I adored when I was a child is a year older than my father.
    Is that possible?

  • After my weekend, I advocate eloping

    Ashley Matthews is now Ashley Drake. That was the easy part. The path that led to that to that occurrence was more involved, more chaotic, more expensive. I doubt Will and Kate had such raucous nuptials.
    But I’m getting the cart before the horse. Allow me to gee-haw, turn around.
    Almost two weeks ago if you will remember, I went to Beaufort, S.C. to  hold the mother-of-the bride’s hand and to ensure she showed up for the marriage vows of her oldest child.

  • Looking for my muse in Beaufort

    My column writing has gotten rusty. Maybe because my brain is a little more rusty than usual. I lack inspiration. I lack joie de Vivre.

     I can’t write without inspiration. My inspiration comes from my  joie de Vivre. It takes a lot to inspire me these days–not so much to enthuse me. But truth-to-tell I am just too tired to be enthused.

    I’m hoping this weekend will put a new spring in my step.

    I am being reunited with the other half of my brain cell–best friend, Denise.

  • ‘You look just like your mother’

    After church this past Sunday, Tom and I drove to a local diner for a quick snack since we bypassed breakfast and couldn’t wait until I shopped and cooked at home.
    As we settled in, other groups filtered in–a good amalgam for Easter lunch: young couples, older adults, families with small children.
    But it was the group of four women who took the table beside us that caught–and held–my eye.
    They were all late 60s, early 70s, and each was different in size, shape, hair style and fashion sense.

  • Reporters are no different from you

    I knew when I was 10 years old I was going to be a writer.  I knew when I was 17 years old that newspapers were in my future. That realization only came as I was filling out college applications and it dawned on me that no one pays you to write romance novels when you’ve never experienced romance.

  • More Q & A from the Social Security folks

    By Ruqayyah Nicholas

  • Learning the hard way

    By Susan Howell

  • Our content has value

    You may have seen it on our  front page last week. Beginning Thursday, March 17 the Williston Pioneer website goes to a subscriber-only site.
    Why? You’re asking. Because our newpaper content has value and there is expense associated with delivering it to you–whether it be in print form or online.
    Each week more than 20 people help get your newspaper to you. Most of you only see the three of us here–Debbie, Chris and me. But the truth is, behind the scenes there are others who ensure that the paper reaches the mailboxes and stores each week.