Everyone has heard the phrase in some form or fashion, and I’m not quite too keen on what the term is up in these parts, but back home, “stubborn as an old mule on moonshine” gets kicked around quite often. Now, for all of us, we have these moments from time to time, but...
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Well, I think it’s safe to say, without even havin’ to knock on a hunk of hickory, that spring is officially here and that dandruff from Hades is gone at last. In the words of a great man, we are free at last, free at last! As I sit here, listening to the sweet...
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As you so shockingly discovered last week, I had the pleasure of havin another Tarheel join me on a rampant swath of destruction, I mean adventure, around the province. Well, during the course of our, transgressions, we shall say, Gary and I just happened to run across a rather peculiar sight. You see, we...
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The chorus to the song “A spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down in a most delightful way” (Mary Poppins) can be taken literally, but here is another take. My spoonful of sugar is completing or doing something by making it fun, enjoyable or even downright silly. Not in the mood to organize...
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Everyone needs an adventure in life, something to make things just a bit more interesting from the common ebb and flow of day to day turmoil. Now, whether you are a risk taker, a thrill maker or a record breaker, it doesn’t really make much difference. You see, all of us have to break out...
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I know it has been some time since I last wrote. To those avid readers out there I apologize for my rather tardy writing now. My absence as of late has been due to the fact that I’ve had to recover from some very difficult, trying and emotionally taxing issues. I’ve come to realize recently that...
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Spring time lends so much for people as the blossoms — once held captive by the cold, hard, icy grip of winter — begin to burst forth. Children go out to play, adults begin to argue relentlessly with the oncoming march of the garden weed, and youth begin their trek across the countryside to...
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Growin’ up back in the hills, every Sunday at church would be a sight to see in a small Southern town. Everyone dressed in their Sunday finest — for some a clean pair of bib overalls and a stain free plain flannel shirt — and ready to hear the gospel. I never will forget...
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It might be the wrong time of year, but the crispness of the air just this morning reminded me of a scene that happened every year back home. You see, the mountains, especially those around my home town of Hendersonville, were rich with apples, hence a yearly apple festival and parade. Every year, without...
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What seems now like ages ago settlers took their first feeble steps onto the shoreline of their new homeland along a tattered yet bustling pier stretching out like giant fingers into the water. Packing all their worldly possessions with them into tight, rickety old suitcases, trunks, and bags, they shuffled along in crowded lines...
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