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.
When I was a child and we visited my grandparents, I knew their standard of living was different from ours.
It would be, I decided, a nice gesture of Southern thoughtfulness if I made a dish of my famous macaroni and cheese.
It is now that I have reached the age where the wiser generation, those who taught me and mentored me, are starting to take their leave of this world. And now I search both their lives and deaths for lessons.
From the moment Tink visited the Mississippi Delta, he began to long for a seersucker suit.
While studying for a degree in journalism, I learned the basics of telling a good story and answering questions before they could be asked.
The little house in which I was privileged to be raised - the same one I wrote of recently - needed its annual deep cleaning.
It was with remarkable bravery that Daddy plunked down $1,000 of hard earned, long saved money in 1956 to buy a few acres of pasture with a large, tree-shaded creek that twisted through it.
Two Bibles sit, always untouched, on the fireplace mantle in our living room.
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We were cleaning the dishes from Sunday dinner when Rodney called me into the living room where he was watching TV.
As best I can recall - and I've been thinking hard about this - I have only written one fan letter in my life.
Many years ago, out of nostalgia mostly, I ordered a dipper from a local hardware store.
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 ...
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