The Lost Art of Sunday Dinner

It’s Sunday morning circa 1987 and I can see my Grandma Rue, standing at the stove in a flowered smock dolloping hush puppy batter into hot oil. Other simmering pots hold collards and a picnic shoulder, green beans, butter beans and potatoes. On some visits, mom goes with Granddaddy to church. Growing up in tobacco territory, myContinue reading “The Lost Art of Sunday Dinner”

Lost and Found

Fifteen minutes before leaving on vacation found me crying, with a bruise forming on top of my right cheekbone. I had lost the fight with some of the boy’s musical gear due to my own clumsiness as I loaded it into the car and a black eye was not the baggage I had planned on carrying with me forContinue reading “Lost and Found”