I’m gonna pop some tags! Thrift store shopping is all the rage! Have you noticed there is a thrift store popping up on every corner? Malls are dying. Thrift shopping is thriving. It’s treasure hunting. It’s archaeology with air conditioning. Every rack is a mystery. Every aisle is an adventure. Somewhere between the outdated Christmas sweaters and somebody’s abandoned exercise equipment sits the possibility of finding a designer blouse for four dollars. Every rack holds possibilities. Every aisle whispers, “You don’t need this, but look how cute it is.” You walk in looking for a sweater and somehow leave with a picture frame, a cookbook, two blouses, a decorative rooster, and absolutely no sweater. It’s a gift. Or a disorder. The jury is still out. Before thrift shopping became cool, my oldest son was already a fan. He loved hunting for the most eclectic T-shirts imaginable. The stranger the message, the better. You’d be amazed at what people are willing to put on a whi...
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Peanuts, Popcorn and a Squirrel An Ode to Family Dinners (Revised) I am not delusional about being the model parent. I am realistic. Yet, as I surveyed our family dining table one Sunday night years ago, even I was amazed by what I saw. We had attended church, made a quick run to the grocery store, and by the time we walked through the front door, I had three pairs of hungry eyes staring at me. I did not want to cook. Short-order cuisine was on the menu. Soup, canned chili, sandwiches, maybe even chicken fajitas if I got ambitious. Then Cade reminded his father his first squirrel was sitting in the refrigerator, waiting to be cooked. As a hunter who loves fresh deer meat, he wasn't nearly as excited about fresh Alabama squirrel, but he rolled the tiny pieces in flour and fried up the trophy. I turned to the other twin and asked what he wanted for dinner. Surely the answer would be waffles. Nope. Boiled peanuts. From a can. Since I had completely lost control of the menu, I ...
Monsters in my Closet! There were always monsters around when I was young. What was lurking under the bed. What dark things were in my closet. And something was always waiting outside in th e dark. Cinematic beasts drove my young fears into imaginary trauma as a young 70s kid. My Mom loved Dracula vampire movies. She watched every vampire film she could find, including the gothic soap opera Dark Shadows . Unfortunately for me, my mother was also a sleepwalker. Nothing prepares a child for waking up in the middle of the night to find a pale woman with long dark hair drifting through the room in a flowing black nightgown. She would stare straight ahead as if under a spell, open drawers, move things around for no apparent reason, then slowly glide back out of the room. That was normal at our house. We always had to make sure the front door was locked. Not to keep monsters out. To keep Mama in. We let her escape a few times. In my glorious youth, Creature from the B...
It's the Small Things "I believe in Christianity as I believe that the sun has risen: not only because I see it, but because by it I see everything else." — C.S. Lewis I would have a hard time being an atheist. Not because I have all the answers. Not because I have some extraordinary faith. And certainly not because I can win every religious debate. I would have a hard time being an atheist because every time I look around, I keep stumbling across little reminders that God is real. People have argued about religion since the beginning of time. Entire wars have been fought over who is right and who is wrong. Churches have inspired millions, but sometimes they have also discouraged people when imperfect humans tried to play the role of God. I've never been comfortable with faith that depends more on man-made rules than on a relationship with the Creator. Truth is scrambled by cults and used as tools of control all while labeling their congregation as God’...
From the My Hometown Column archives (2014): I stumbled across this old column and discovered that while television has changed, my confusion about reality TV has not. Naked and Blogging! Oh My! Here I sit, naked and typing my blog. Well, not really. But these days, if reality television has taught us anything, apparently everything is better in your birthday suit. Our culture keeps finding new lows just when I think we might make a U-turn out of Scumville. Television producers can’t come up with fresh plots and storylines, so instead they rehash old ideas and sprinkle in a little nakedness. Adam and Eve were the first naked farmers, and even they didn't stick with it for long. Take Buying Naked , a show where people shop for houses without clothes. As a former Realtor, I'm not sure I'd want to drive nude clients around in the same vehicle my young sons have to ride in later. You know...the seats. My husband loves survival shows and watches Naked and Afraid , where they dr...
“In a galaxy far, far away…” If you are not a Star Wars nerd, you just cannot understand what that line does to us — especially when it’s followed by the blast of a full symphonic horn section and those scrolling white letters drifting across a dark space screen. On May 25, 1977, the world changed. Well… it took a few extra weeks for the Force to reach South Mississippi, but eventually it landed at the Ritz Theater in downtown Picayune, and this 13-year-old girl was sitting in a packed house completely mesmerized by lightsabers, romance, adventure, stormtroopers, and a walking carpet named Chewbacca. If only I could go back and be so full of wonder at a movie again! I cannot fully explain why I became such a Star Wars nerd, but I was hooked, so much so that I even named my second child Luke. Enough said. Fast forward several decades, and honestly, I had become disappointed with much of the newer Star Wars universe. Disney seemed more interested in reinventing the fra...
