• Updated

A Carrollton native, Mary L. Brown-Wilson has run a long gamut of some of life’s most unenviable experiences: molestation, spousal abuse, drug addiction, arrest, etc.

  • Updated

Everywhere men are laughing, and somewhere children shout. There’s double joy in Indianapolis — because mighty Duke is out.

  • Updated

Several times a month I need to drive to the city, along with hundreds and hundreds of my west Georgia friends and neighbors. You’ll see us all there on I-20, rumbling along like a herd of wildebeests across the Serengeti. For the most part, we see the same things every morning — Arbor Place…

  • Updated

I tend to be hard on my hands, so Mama gave me a pair of gardening gloves. Although I always try to be thankful when anybody gives me anything, I have to confess, I wasn’t quite sure about those gloves. They were well made from sturdy cotton, to be sure, but they had flowers on them. Pink ones.

  • Updated

The calculator is broken.

  • Updated

“In like a lion … out like a lamb.” Well, March didn’t disappoint. Monday morning at about 5, the wind came roaring in. I’d have to say it wasn’t exactly lion-like. As the west- driving rain hammered our windows and falling branches thudded on the roof, it was more like “In like Godzilla.”

  • Updated

I was taking advantage of this beautiful weather (warm temps and low humidity) to do some brush-dragging behind the house. The morning sun had my back limbered up and I was making good progress. But then I saw a snake stick.

  • Updated

I lack statistics, but I think a passel of people wished they lived in the South just so they can talk like us. Our sayings and quirky phrases make conversations more fun. My recent column about things folks say in the South made readers happy as that dead pig in the sun I wrote about.

  • Updated

Lately, Johnny and I have been down for the count (both of us got COVID). Thankfully it was a mild case. We stayed home and rested, treating our fatigued immunities with lots of warm liquids and Airbourne vitamin supplements.

  • Updated

It’s been a while since I’ve taken a road trip. A year, to be exact. That’s when two grandmaws, one great-grandmaw and an aunt of advancing age headed map-less to Cleveland, Mississippi, on a great adventure. The four of us jumped in a car, Mississippi-bound. The reason for our visit was a j…

  • Updated

Few sounds are as lovely to my ears as the lilt of a Southern accent. Our voices soothe like honeysuckle, ooze with gentility and drawl like Spanish moss looks. And, like that bromeliad that drips from trees in the southeast, words drip from our mouths.

  • Updated

I like to keep tabs on storms. Ever since the spring when one dropped a tree on my house, I’ve been serious about keeping track of them.

  • Updated

I’ve been feeling a little drab of late. That’s no great surprise to anyone, I know, considering the state of all things.

  • Updated

I’m seeing them everywhere — clad in black and yellow, both in groups and flying solo. They want a handout and are hostile if they don’t get one. It’s that time of year again — yellow jacket time. On these warm winter days, they’re on the move, they’re hungry and they’re irritable.

  • Updated

There he is, up on the stage: the thin guy with the scruffy mustache, the big glasses, the deep rumbling voice created by an all-too-short lifetime of cigarettes and booze. It’s Lewis Grizzard, the Southern patriot — defender of the Bulldog Nation, comedian, actor, but above all else a write…

  • Updated

There he is, up on the stage: the thin guy with the scruffy mustache, the big glasses, the deep rumbling voice created by an all-too-short lifetime of cigarettes and booze. It’s Lewis Grizzard, the Southern patriot — defender of the Bulldog Nation, comedian, actor, but above all else a write…

  • Updated

It’s probably not what Clement Moore had in mind.

  • Updated

Grab your brooms, brothers and sisters. The hour is upon us.