I've spent lots of my life waiting for my dad. We could never leave church until he had talked to everyone in the lobby. If he had to retrieve me from any event, I was always the forlorn child, the one whose parent forgot her.
Posts tagged ‘natchez trace’
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.