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I am as tired of this election as anything in a long time. My heart is battered, bruised, held  together some days with tape and string. Even my ears hurt… What happened to truth? And to the civil discourse that accompanies its pursuit? My training is in research as well as writing, so when I…

As I learn more about myself — middle age will do that to you, if you pay attention — I realise that standing up for the voiceless is one of the strongest reasons I’m such a loudmouth. (And yes — I do realise I’m always on a soapbox!) I’ve seen too many wonderful people —…

I sometimes pretend I’m a calm person…:) But during an election year, as a ‘bright blue dot in a very red state,’ it’s hard. People I know, even like, are filled with fear and loathing. They aim it at my beliefs, at what I hold dear. At my core values, as we seem fond of…

I’m fashed, my Aunt Bonnie would say. From the French ‘fâcher,’ to make angry, or offend. It’s an old Southern term — probably been around since French settlements. It isn’t just ‘to get mad,’ however — at least not the way my family used it. If you’re fashed, you’re obsessing over something, tying yourself in…
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