After a week of trudging along the Natchez Trace, I miss two things: home cooking and the conveniences of my own place. Eating with Dad means he pouts like a toddler if we go somewhere he thinks he won't like. Plus, there's this.....
Posts from the ‘writing’ Category
I don't know if they ever served cinnamon twist doughnuts at the Peoples Cafe in Jackson, MS. Initially, I imagined that whole scene inside an old-time Krispy Kreme, with the vinyl swivel stools and low-slung coffee counter. My dad used to take me to the one on the main drag in Florence, SC when I was a little girl.
I adore Andra. Two days before she left for this 444-mile walk we had a surprise celebration for her at The Belmont in Charleston, the first time I had successfully surprised her since the day 10 years before when I made my proposal to her that she be my wife for life. These ten years have been my best years, so far.
How could I possibly let her wander of into the dangers of the Natchez Trace? Throughout history, the Trace has been a haunt of notorious highwaymen, robbers and murderers.