Blogging three days a weeks is like a muzzle. I have about ten stories to tell, and I’m supposed to write one post today and be silent until Monday.

Dammit.

But this post is supposed to be about my mother. She deserves that pride of place.Continue Reading

“I never imagined your mother……….THAT way.” Miss Sweat, my junior high school English teacher, speared a bite of her hot fudge sundae. “I’d always imagined her as the epitome of Southern grace and decorum.”

“Ha,” I muttered under my breath.

“What?”

“Nothing! Um……..you were saying……..about my mother………”Continue Reading