The solace of a Southern kitchen.

Sophie Coors, the Southern folk-style artist, taught my sister to blow spit bubbles. They were at some fancy seated luncheon, the kind with strict expectations for behavior - a wedding or graduation party or New Year's formal event that required Margaret's attendance, participation and compliance. Margaret was not the compliant type, especially not at that … Continue reading The solace of a Southern kitchen.

Suspended requirements.

Meteorologically speaking, I suppose a Southern thunderstorm isn't too far removed from its Midwestern prairie-sweeping cousin or New England Nor'easter: warm air/cold air tussles, all of them, that range between small misunderstandings and full-blown wars. Meterologically speaking, they're all alike, I suppose. But there's something transformative about an afternoon storm in the South, a change … Continue reading Suspended requirements.

For the love of bitter humans.

Life, I think, is like a champagne cocktail: best enjoyed while still fizzy, sublime in its bitter sweetness. ****** In my next life, if my karmic inheritance takes me to the next level of transcendence, I will return as a Quaker, serenely imparting peace among people. If you're wondering why I don't just study up … Continue reading For the love of bitter humans.