The Number You Have Dialed

Cell phones have certainly changed our lives, but I’m not altogether convinced it’s for the better.

If my life were a TV series, this would have been a recent episode:


We now join John in the men’s room at Braum’s:

Siri: “In 800 feet, turn right at the intersection.”

(John realizes his map app is still on, but can’t get to it at the moment.)

Voice from stall: “Lady, you’re in the wrong bathroom.”

John: “Sir, that lady you’re hearing is on my phone.”

Voice from stall: ...

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Before cell phones and the Internet, radio brought people together. A broadcaster made a community feel as one. People had their favorite DJ and he (most often it was a he) provided music, information, commentary, and contests for listeners.

I had the radio on as I was on my way to deliver some furniture, when something caught my eye.

A garage sale sign. It was pink so I couldn’t miss it. (Note to self: Next time you have a garage sale, make ...

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Below See Level

If there was one thing Ashdown, Arkansas had when I was growing up, it was plenty for kids to do.

During the summer months, activities included baseball, day trips to swim at the lake, visiting kinfolk, and spending the night at a friend’s house. And of course, lawn work.

Fall meant more lawn work, including raking (pine needles are not your friend), football, splitting wood for the fireplace for next year, and Halloween.

Winter brought the holidays and a break from lawn care. ...

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Bowled Over

kitch [ kich ] noun

Art, decorative objects and other forms of representation of questionable artistic or aesthetic value; a representation that is excessively sentimental, overdone, or vulgar. ~


Whenever I see canister sets, cookie jars, clocks and Formica dinette sets from the 50s and 60s, I feel as if I’ve gone home. These items adorned my youth, but as often happens, new things come and old things go.

As the 70s made way for harvest gold, avocado green, and shag carpet ...

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An Old Sew and Sew

I’m not sure how a tomato became the symbol of sewing in the South, but it did. My mom, and every other mom I knew in Ashdown, Arkansas, had a pincushion in the shape of a tomato.

Many of those pincushions are still around.

Judging from the workload that women endured at the time, it seems that each lady would have been well within their right to use a voodoo doll instead, but no, it was a tomato.

When I was very young, ...

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