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  Bigfoot — A Redneck Alien? (Revisited) All this alien talk in the news made me revisit a theory I came up with years ago: Bigfoot is a redneck alien. I know that sounds absurd. But stay with me. This theory was born years ago when a shadowy figure appeared in news reports from a Mars Rover image that looked suspiciously like Sasquatch strolling across the red planet. Coincidence? I think not. And now UFOs and Orbs are showing up on cameras everywhere. Yet no one ever seems to catch them landing. Why? Because they are plopping down in remote forests, where Bigfoot can quietly step off the ship unseen, unphotographed, and apparently unbothered. The creature with many names—Bigfoot, Yeti, Sasquatch—never leaves much proof of his existence. Plenty of eyewitnesses. Lots of footprints. One famously shaky 1967 Patterson-Gimlin film. But where is the clear trail-camera footage? Hunters catch deer. Hunters catch raccoons. Hunters catch possums scratchin...
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  Stress: More Fun than a Colonoscopy! No one ever said Stress was fun! Ever notice it can sneak up on you looking like “I’m handling it just fine”… while your body is waving a white flag? I used to think I handled stress pretty well. Stiff upper lip. Strong faith. Keep moving. Then my colon filed a complaint. People say, “What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.” I would like to suggest what doesn’t kill you may instead give you indigestion, high blood pressure, and Irritable Bowel Syndrome. According to stress charts, if you are brave enough to add these numbers up…the death of a spouse scores 100 points. Marriage adds 50 more. (100pts for me!) Moving adds 20 more each move. Job changes and lets not even count bad jobs! Raising 4 children. I think I am over my limit! Raising Twins boys probably deserves its own category. I figure so far I have had enough stress points to pick out my casket. Divorce is a stressor I have not experienced but I think I am ok on tha...
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  They Don’t Make Grannies Anymore Have you noticed… real grannies are disappearing? I’m talking about the true, blue-haired, baking, cleaning, no-nonsense kind. The kind that feels like it belongs to another era. We may be the last generation to experience them. Now, my own grandmothers weren’t exactly the “classic” grannified type—but my husband’s mother? She was the real deal. Honestly, spotting a true granny these days feels about as likely as spotting Bigfoot. So what is a granny? And how do you know if you’ve got one? Let me help you out. Because if you do—cherish her. Hug her. Learn from her. Today’s model of grandmothers are not bad just—but different. They use smartphones. They eat healthy. They work out. But let’s be honest… They can’t make real banana pudding. Old-school grannies grew up in a different way of life. Nothing was instant. No disposable wipes, diapers, meals or husbands! No convenience. No shortcuts. They didn’t call it “recycling” to reuse every item rather...
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  Am I Recyclable? Ever wish you could take your tired, aging body, toss it into one of those blue recycling bins, and wait for the truck to come by—only to be melted down and turned into something shiny and new? Or…knowing my luck…a seat cushion. I refuse to go the route of Hollywood Celebs with thick pocketbooks and thicker self-absorption who recycle their faces at the local plastic surgeon. Most stars come out of the plastic machine looking wide eyed, swollen and ….scary. Yes, plastic is recyclable, but do we really want reused syrup bottles in our cheek bones? Now hair—that’s a better recyclable donation. Women grow out their locks to make wigs for cancer patients, and that’s a beautiful thing. But if I donated my never-had-a-good-hair-day mop, someone might come looking for me and slap me in the face. Then again…is bad hair better than no hair? Depends on the day. We hear it all the time:  Reduce. Reuse. Recycle. And honestly, that idea fits right into how we were meant ...
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The Day the Music Died

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  Does anyone really wake up with the thought that today may be the day they die? Norman V. Rester 1956-1998 Saying goodbye to your loved one seems so trivial until you look back and realize it was the last goodbye. Then, it becomes a moment stuck in your memory that had so much importance… but you did not see it coming. You relive all those last days over and over again, savoring the countdown remembrance until the last glimpse. At 34 years old, with two sons, six and ten years old, I faced the toughest challenge of my life and upheld a family tradition of becoming a young widow. Both my grandmothers and my aunt lost their husbands prematurely, two from car accidents and one from cancer. I never dreamed I too would continue the custom. Norman was my husband for 16 and a half years, whom I married at a young and naive 18 years old. Almost immediately, we traveled the world in a Contemporary Christian singing group called Sound of Joy. We were full time Christian singers on tour in ...
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I Dream of the Day Cane's Comes to Town

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I used to not like chicken tenders. I wanted my chicken to have bones in it... like God intended. In my Newspaper Columnist days, I even made the President of the Chicken Council in Washington D.C. upset! I wrote a piece about Jamie Oliver, the yuckiness of feeding chicken nuggets to our kids and was it really even food??… I was being silly, the Chicken Guy wasn't amused. He rebutting me with a rebuttal to the editor. There is life before Cane's and life after discovering Cane's. Over 16 plus years ago, my Number 1 son ‘ made ’ me eat at this new place in Slidell, Louisiana.  Raising Canes.  To my surprise, this fast food restaurant's menu did not include anything but chicken tenders… Once, I had eaten a McDonald’s nugget. My expectation was low. WELL, It was love at first bite. OMG…it was delicious.  AND WHO Needs ketchup! Once I ventured down the road of Cane's sauce...I became hooked, addicted even! My...
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Being Southern is...

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