As a child, I was captivated by emotional stories and how words strung together had the power to make me feel happy, touched, sad or inspired.
At the beauty shop one day, I was flipping through a magazine and half-listening to the local happenings.
We were driving to the Georgia coast through little towns in which few live and even fewer know. It was near Appling County, I believe, when Tink remarked on something he saw.
It happened many years ago. My toddler niece, Nicole, grabbed a gold hoop earring dangling from my ear and gave it a good yank, ripping my pierced ear.
Since the beginning of our Southerner/Yankee union, I have kept a list of places Tink should visit to fully experience the glorious South.
We were eating lunch as the American Queen riverboat pulled out of port, having just returned from a morning-long excursion to the Battlefield of Vicksburg.
Behind the little house where I spent a happy childhood, where I toted books from one room to another, where I knelt by my bed nightly to pray, where I ate homemade biscuits buttered and sprinkled with sugar, is a little shed.
It did not turn out as I intended.
The exact moment it happened was at a large round table in a ballroom of majestic gilt in a grand hotel.
A country store is located in the middle of hundreds of acres of farmland embedded with hardwoods and pines that have grown, untended, for a century or two.
It was, of all things, a call to jury duty that reminded me powerfully of the beauty of a sweet hometown and the joy that comes from staying put where the Lord put you in the first place.
Last summer, I was telling Tink about an adorable town a few hours away.
There isn't a day that passes that I don't remember Mama. Many times when she crosses my mind, I am doing something she taught me how to do.
The Great Depression shaped my parents. In the years to come, it shaped my life as well.
It is with earnest intention and optimism that I arise each day and assemble my "to-do" list.
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A while back, we were in Canada for a movie filming there.
When I was approaching 7 years old and about to wrap up the first grade, I reigned as the No. 1 reader of books as ...
In the months before we married, I showed Tink the Southern mountains of my raising.
It was time for spring cleaning around the Rondarosa, which seems to always start with a ton of limbs, twigs and branches that have fallen ...
A while back, a Los Angeles-based producer approached Tink and me to gage our potential interest in writing a historical mini-series about the life of ...
When I was 4, Mama's uncle, a kind and successful man, died.
History's full of people who made a difference, took a stand or voiced an opinion against injustice when it cost them plenty. Either it ...
A few years ago when I had a new book releasing about Southern women, the publisher asked me to speak at a conference for owners ...
On a Sunday morning, I was tucked into bed on the island of St. Simons. This place is where I, at the age of 13 ...
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