tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-177799192011-07-31T07:08:01.355-04:00Rivernoreply@blogger.comBlogger641100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-17127526748026365722010-08-31T10:24:00.002-04:002010-08-31T11:09:45.245-04:00

Goodbye old friend. I know you're packing your bags. There has been such a closeness between us that when you cried I tasted the salt. Jes' yesterday I noticed a change in you. I shudda' seen that ramblin' fever coming on. There wuz a snake in the grass, too. I see sheddin his skin signs all over the place.If you'll stay I'll rub your back and we'll tawk about when you'll be coming back again.

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-32422421319270996072010-03-29T09:58:00.001-04:002010-03-29T09:58:56.078-04:00

"Better to write for yourself and have no public, than to write for the public and have no self."Cyril Connolly(1903 - 1974)

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-47104523264157410232010-03-27T18:17:00.006-04:002010-08-31T14:35:57.179-04:00

A certain Southern man prefers to rise before dawn, take a warm bath and a long walk down the driveway for the morning paper on an empty stomach. Dawn is when men of reason (depends on your definition of ‘reason’) go to bed. Dawn is also when my husband's year-round yard work and drama at the rabbit saloon begins.I like watching the breakfast crowd through the kitchen window. A big-hearted saloon

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-42567002242577116032010-03-27T18:07:00.001-04:002010-03-27T18:08:30.515-04:00

My favorite coffee cup, a wicker chair and a quiet, sunny, cool morning on my west entrance porch: a train whistle - dew falling from the sweet gum trees....and there, in the sky was a H-U-G-E, black bird with a white head and throat and a HUMONGOUS wing spread. It appeared to me he/she was clutching something that trailed. Could this be an eagle??? Please don't tell me it was a vulture. I know

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-66888826383843742082009-08-22T14:44:00.005-04:002009-08-27T11:48:47.022-04:00

Mind you my husband is a genuine Florida Panhandle cracker born and raised in a western hammock at the head of Mule Creek named Booger Bay. What saved him from a lifetime at the wrong end of a mule was flaming red hair, piercing brown eyes, a magnetic personality and three half-crazy sisters whose sole aim in life was to torment him.Trusting no one and allied only with himself he steadily climbed

Rivernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-46919280956821897232009-08-21T10:00:00.006-04:002010-03-27T18:04:17.721-04:00

Dear Florida High Old-Timers:This morning there is a promise of shorter, cooler days and repeated circles with variations to be absorbed in the whole of future Septembers.Looking back in time I see the only girl in the FHS 1952 class of six. There is no escaping high school juvenile categories. She was not popular even though she did enjoy a fair amount of recognition.In the school library is a

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-88619052280032011092009-08-19T14:01:00.019-04:002009-08-20T18:08:37.786-04:00

~The Water Boy~My other brother, Broward Franklin’s first job in the 1940’s was stacking chunks of coal outside Grandpa Green’s blacksmith shop. He was the youngest of three born to the youngest of Grandpa’s brood. He was barely out of diapers when he stopped the little train system dubbed ‘The Watertown Northern Railroad Moonshine Line’ with his slingshot and glass marble.On its way from

Rivernoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-39839553375557988542009-08-18T12:27:00.006-04:002009-08-19T10:09:45.545-04:00

Not too far from here is a place with a name you won’t believe. It's not a city. I guess you call it a nickname? There's one highway, one traffic light, a church, a convenience store, horse doo-doo, kudzu and more armadillos than Texas has.The place belongs to the people born there. Transplants don't count. The natives call the place 'Coonbottom'. Everyone else calls it 'Concord' in public but '

Rivernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-8300700281675562102009-07-28T17:19:00.009-04:002009-08-20T06:19:49.575-04:00

Prom night must be upon us here in north Florida. Last night during my evening stroll I detected the smell of hair spray, styling gel, perfume, spray starch, blings, fear and hormones in the air…..and that’s just the boys.There are no students in our neighborhood but an elite private club (called Rooster’s Rundown by some) is only a quarter of a mile down the road so the wind must have been

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-40729746717029672342008-09-19T13:38:00.002-04:002008-09-19T13:42:39.248-04:00

Goodbye old friend. I know you're packing your bags. There has been such a closeness between us that when you cried I tasted the salt. Jes' yesterday I noticed a change in you. I shudda' seen that ramblin' fever coming on. There wuz a snake in the grass, too. I see sheddin his skin signs all over the place. If you'll stay I'll rub your back and we'll tawk about when you'll be coming back again.

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-65241742562847834282007-11-18T18:06:00.001-05:002007-11-18T18:06:52.124-05:00

A good listener in the talking part of the South

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-86789675635849012712007-11-18T12:18:00.001-05:002008-01-15T19:37:28.480-05:00

Click me!

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-82774718536242936012007-11-12T19:14:00.001-05:002009-07-29T14:59:36.219-04:00

I have always lived in never never land, aka 'Deliverance'. For the past forty years of my life I have lived across the street from the Easter Bunny, next door to Popeye, two blocks from a Lego factory and backdoor to two gnomes and the Wizard of Oz. I dress according to the weather, wearing whichever breeze happens to be blowing. I am a member of a large and powerful tribe whose activity is not

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-69976829974764866452007-06-02T09:53:00.000-04:002007-06-02T09:56:14.726-04:00

Where to look in the Bible when,You need rest and peaceMatthew 11:25-30You WorryMatthew 6:19-34You are lonely or fearfulPsalm 23You need peace of mindJohn 14:27Philippians 4:6-8Men fail youPsalm 27You grow bitter or critical1 Corinthians 13You have sinnedPsalm 511 John 1You are discouragedPsalm 34God seems far awayPsalm 139The world seems bigger than GodPsalm 90You are sickPsalm 41You are

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-75765605202545473462007-03-23T07:43:00.000-04:002007-04-21T11:44:28.106-04:00

Last night the past slipped in bringing sweet memories. This morning I'm taking all those old records off the shelf and listening to them all. Dancing away from last night into the morning - this glorious morning.

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-67663700594804064842007-03-18T10:08:00.000-04:002007-03-18T10:10:32.904-04:00

Good Sunday morning! A glorious day here. Cold and sunny. We are on our way to our weekend retreat and dinner with my cousin tonight. Put your troubles away today and enjoy life!

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-92202338953212835692007-03-17T07:26:00.000-04:002007-03-17T07:35:30.744-04:00

Saturday, again. A cold morning arrived as predicted. The wind is yowling and spectacular azaleas of all colors, wild honeysuckle and dogwood trees are awake. My yard is a cornucopoia of nature's generosity.

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-38919041414081190212007-03-16T15:12:00.000-04:002007-03-16T15:16:51.163-04:00

Today is Friday, bless its heart. I always did like Fridays - most of the time, that is. Back when Friday was date night instead of tv night I was hooked on a feeling of anticipation. Guess you can call it that. Is that a Southern saying? Naw. It sho' isn't but it'll do until something more fittin' comes along....bein' since I am "full of it" anyhow!

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-4235201185387095242007-03-12T08:46:00.000-04:002007-03-12T10:12:49.069-04:00

This Monday morning is very cool here in Florida. Don't you hate posts that begin with a weather report? I do. It's a permanent topic of conversation among persons whom it does not interest. We chatter about it because there's little else we care to share with strangers...like today. But make no mistake my friends, I know you are there. Stay healthy and happy.I am a self-appointed inspector of

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-66879410715850074552007-03-11T22:29:00.000-04:002007-03-11T22:51:18.721-04:00

The 60's and 70's The main office was all grey tones of concrete block walls the color of fresh dug attapulgite clay. Grey dust flowed up from the sidewalks to cover my shoes and postage stamp grass: it had settled out of the air years before Clean Air Title I limitations. The front door bore clawmarks and tiny splinters left by the company watchdog's frantic search for human contact. Across the

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-59703488727682093072007-03-11T22:22:00.001-04:002007-03-11T22:22:36.291-04:00

Today does not drive people to distraction - maybe mad. No. It's the bottomless pit of remorse and dispair for the things that happened yesterday and the dread for what tomorrow could bring. I was distracted yesterday: today I have hope for tomorrow and all of the tomorrows thereafter.

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-66951087913974837612007-03-11T11:08:00.001-04:002007-03-11T11:08:52.531-04:00

It is a dark and shadowed winter morning here. Crackling cold. The sun is like a fat watermelon backing the night down and down through trees so tall I have to tilt my head back to look. At last I understand my grandmother's ritualistic saying, "A woman rises of her own will in the morning". Stepping outside to measure my day the cold air steamed my breath in clouds. Bare tree branches are

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-8597331918471848242007-03-11T10:40:00.000-04:002007-03-11T10:41:53.360-04:00

I am addicted to ghost stories which make me feel as if a stream of lizards fresh from the pond are streaking up my back and hiding in my hair. I cannot read ghost stories though without all of the lights on in the house.One especially dark night last week (well, really this happened last night) only one dim nightlight glowed in the dining room and it is putting it mildly that I was reluctant to

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-45291180376593697182007-03-11T10:34:00.001-04:002007-03-11T10:37:04.803-04:00

At last! I can speak to the internet message boards, friends Groups, writing Groups and all the dot com journals, magazines, Southern humor and blogs out there.For the past two years I have surfed, joined, written, read, digested, disagreed and sat quietly on their benches. There were periods of time when I enjoyed being there. I concluded for the most part this activity is a device for promoting

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-68714313218094993212007-03-11T10:20:00.001-04:002007-03-11T10:29:33.163-04:00

I am a native of "Real Florida". When life was new I took for granted our now vanishing rich culture of folklore and mythology. Gone are "Six Gun Territory", "Goofy Golf", "Ross Allen's Wild Life Institute" and roadside attractions replete with boiled peanuts, pecan rolls and alligator rasslin'. "Weeki-Watchi Springs", "Silver Springs" and "Cypress Gardens" are limping along thanks to federal and

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-32439552529126581232007-03-11T10:16:00.001-04:002007-03-11T10:16:36.564-04:00

Sleep no more tonight. Dreading with hope the future, a place and time yet to come. Longing for the past, wishing for a place, a person and time gone

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-42674009559587572422007-03-11T08:59:00.000-04:002007-03-11T09:00:07.141-04:00

William Shakespeare wrote in Julius Caesar, "A soothsayer bids you beware of the Ides of March." Not so, Mr. Shakespeare, not today.Spring is only five days away but the very best part has already arrived. The azaleas. So all hail the amzin' azaleas. Giant pillows ringing huge oak trees who spread their multicolor palette all over our landscape. Rolling waves of purple, red,white and pink that

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1142627992870799962006-03-17T15:36:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:03.264-05:00

Ours is a town with streets named for tobacco farmers and presidents but the past pokes through like naked bones. The mystery of 1950-something sawed-off shotguns and moonshine hangs in the air in every honky tonk where heat lightening flashes now and then. You just had to be here in the 50's.The Florida Panhandle was blistered and peeling and the temperature stuck in the throat at 100 when I

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1142215690465534632006-03-12T21:07:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:02.790-05:00

Don't ever download Gene Watson's "No One Will Ever Know" at night if you want to be able to go to sleep peacefully.Good night all.

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1142200850168924782006-03-12T16:56:00.001-05:002009-08-25T07:05:05.763-04:00

Melt a stick of butter in a large Pyrex dish. Mix one cup sugar, one cup flour, ? tsp. salt, and one level TBSP baking powder, then add 2/3 cup milk. Stir well and spoon into the dish over the melted butter. Put 1 ? to 2 cups berries (any kind but cuckleberries) on top. Sprinkle with sugar. Bake at 350 until brown on top. Now bless mah soul, doan thet sound E-Z??

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1136911435344365192006-01-10T09:41:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:01.786-05:00

Thanks for the memories, 2005. My memories are more precious as life's shadows deepen. Thank you for the shadows, too; I draw them closer as they lengthen across yet another year. I am remembering parents, grandparents and in-laws no longer here who gave me their conditional/unconditional love.A bout with the flu after Christmas gave me the opportunity to look back on the years of rights and

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1136411330164928882006-01-04T16:24:00.000-05:002007-09-04T18:24:45.749-04:00

Is there a magic cutoff period when offspring feels accountable for their own actions? Is there a moment when a Mama becomes detached in the lives of her children and shrugs, "It's their life" and feels nothing?When I was in my 20's I stood in two different hospital rooms in different years while doctors monitored blood transfusions for two of my young children. I cried and asked, "When do you

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1136122635804367772006-01-01T08:30:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:01.554-05:00

My Town Remember "As Time Goes By"...'You must remember this, a kiss is still a kiss, A sigh is just a sigh; The fundamental things apply, As time goes by'.

Rivernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1135883038815424252005-12-29T13:49:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:01.500-05:00

I am a self-appointed inspector of sore feet and heel spurs....Surveyor, if not of land, then of shoes, exercise and all asphalt-lot driveways, keeping them clear of sweet gum balls and bird poop. I've had two sore feet and two very painful heels for these last six months. Sore feet are of no interest to anyone until they visit. I've had a visit now that's starting to look more like a live-in

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1135209854864541342005-12-21T18:56:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:01.268-05:00

Sighhh, it's been a good day here in north Florida. Cold, cold, cold but lots of sun and the smell of Christmas is in the air. Finished a project today with my feet propped up most of the time. This Plantar Facitiitis has got to go! I have a doctor's appointment next week to get it behind me.How many are coming for Christmas dinner? Don't ask. Our formal dining table seats 12, our kitchen table

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1133481649379564112005-12-02T17:40:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:01.157-05:00

Our weekend retreat is a small farm where my husband lived as a child. Our property joins a state park whose high bluffs overlook the Apalachicola River. The park is named for an extremely rare species of Torreya tree that only grows on the bluffs along the river. Its forests of hardwood trees provide the finest display of fall color found in Florida.Walking in the woods on our property is an

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1133362370576236672005-11-30T09:38:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:01.106-05:00

This morning is gorgeous but then the past several days have been unbelievable here in north Florida. Yes, we had lots of rain but oh it was such a comforting sight and sound. This morning's walk was not as painful as in the past so I am guessing the muscle tears in my feet are healing.Some family members know about this site as do some of my online friends, or should I say written word

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1133353154841041442005-11-30T07:10:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:01.047-05:00

A online acquaintance sent this today. It does not apply to me (smile) because I drive a Cadillac Seville pause, pause, well, except that my On-Star does locate all retail outlets within 500 miles. "Volvo has unveiled an auto designed by women for women called theYCC,'Your Concept Car.' Among its cutting-edge femifeatures:1. Turn signalsthat are able to change their mind at the last minute. 2. An

Rivernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1133181661625764082005-11-28T14:41:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:00.986-05:00

A Real Florida BlessingBless this house, oh Lord, how we cryFor our panthers, clean air and disappearing shore line. Before they found us we lived good livesNow it's clogged roads, higher taxes, condos and crime. Bless behind the walls where we old folks hideWhile thousands of tourists march in time.Bless our yard where armadillas passLeaving huge holes in the bright green grass.Bless the spare

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1133142535600343112005-11-27T20:47:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:00.932-05:00

My favorite coffee cup, a wicker chair and a quiet, sunny, cool morning on my west entrance porch: a train whistle and leaves falling from the sweet gum trees....and there, in the sky was a H-U-G-E, black bird with a white head and throat and a HUMONGOUS wing spread. It appeared to me he/she was clutching something that trailed. Could this be an eagle??? Please don't tell me it was a vulture. I

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1133127960327573422005-11-27T16:38:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:00.875-05:00

(Written a year ago)She spends her time waitingFor a second love to make it OKShe always has a reason to stayAlone at the end of the day.She needs peace, a quiet placeFrom memories refusing to fadeLeaving her empty and very sadWill she find her way?In the arms of her Guardian AngelTis the place for her to be Living with this sweet sadnessRemembering what used to be.Hold her close dear AngelHer

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1132664820756729872005-11-22T11:00:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:00.818-05:00

Mah Deah Fambly,Ah kin wawk on wood, assfault and carpet without exertion butt Moppy cain’t. She thumps thru the house every moaning an if ah say any thang she cawls me thet prudent insult in retort, ”Bastinado”, a vury durty wurd.Ah usually guess mah way to thu truth but ah do bleeve Moppy has foot and mouth desease – it’s cawled Planter Fasciitis. She took sum tests foah it an ah

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1132313855755560032005-11-18T14:30:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:00.763-05:00

This is a series of events of my personal experience, observation, and reflection on life with the most interesting character who ever lived this side of New Orleans, my mother, MizRobbie, aka Nanny to her grandchildren. Come with me on a journey into her world with its complex Southern culture hidden and protected from outsiders.Looking back I see MizRobbie’s sass is the most enjoyable

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1132086365796910482005-11-16T21:30:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:00.650-05:00

My four daughters and I know we are not separate from Mama. We are One. So we politely(?) recognize one another’s resemblance to her. Her bedtime routine is one of the reasons why. Retiring for the night (or “getting ready for bed" as she described it)was a purification spell for my Mama. Over the years she practiced her daily ritual, in reality a religion. When she died this 39 year-old

Rivernoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1131901926780797042005-11-13T18:30:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:00.537-05:00

No doubt about it grandmothers are not at all what we were way back when. I’m telling you that living longer, hair color and botox wears really well. I have spent nearly all of my youth in an office in malls or at the beach; not exercising or planning meals as I do now. I helped build our nest egg but avoided cooking eggs. Joined at the hip with early retirement I pondered running for elective

Rivernoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1131797615445486322005-11-12T10:30:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:00.410-05:00

This morning is unlike all others. It was unexpected. Until this morning I had turned a corner, never to return to life as I knew it. It was just another assignment in the beginning. Progress was contemplative and sedate, taking its own sweet time and mine. The march of my mind evolved into a wild stampede. Firmness and strength, virtues I thought I possessed, were being gobbled up and I

Rivernoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1131538979081632882005-11-09T10:20:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:00.338-05:00

WednesdayNovember 9, 2005 11:30 p.m.“Eye On The Dixie Line” Regional hero and junkyard dog recipient, (unrecognizable in this photo) Tattoo Goodboy left the “court” house today after being arrested for “Inciting To Riot” stemming from an incident last night at a doghouse saloon.Speaking briefly with reporters, Goodboy said when he rode his motorcycle into the parking lot of ”I Ainâ€

Rivernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1131455152714902952005-11-08T08:04:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:00.218-05:00

Time is a raging river that has no shores, no destination. Its seasons are not spring, fall, winter or summer but birthdays and joys and sickness and death. Time’s calendar is my family and my mirror, reminders of how quickly the years pass.

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1131392669073454592005-11-07T14:31:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:00.162-05:00

This morning's fog had lifted by 8:00 am. I was convinced that no serious weakening of the structure had occurred but I had to be sure. And I did not want to be sure. The lighthouse overlooking my life sent out a light so that I might see. The keeper on duty wore weathered, cracked boots and pants that had lost their better days. His cap was clamped firmly on his head and his arthritic fingers

Rivernoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1131191336066007142005-11-05T10:14:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:00.105-05:00

Protruding nailheads and quarter inch cracks in the 1940 something wooden porch floor were not inviting. I sat down with care near a large, dangerous looking splinter and took off my shoes. My feet ached, protesting their long walk through acres of our tall majestic pines. A thorough sock inventory gave up a couple of small hitchhiking ticks. Tugging my new Hawaiian cap down over my eyes I

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1131106395912929642005-11-04T07:04:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:29:00.052-05:00

Give me back yesterday. I want to change something. Not a big change but a little something. Give me a little more time with my mother in our first talk since her death in 2000: a little more time to comfort my child whose arms are wrapped tightly around me as she makes her life's journey. Give me back the time spent in my doctor’s office and the time spent scheduling diagnostic imaging in

Rivernoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1131014382023621842005-11-03T07:36:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:28:59.983-05:00

Do not walk behind me, for I may not lead. Do not walk ahead of me, for I may not follow. Do not walk beside me either.Just prettymuch leave me alone.The journey of a thousand miles begins with a broken fan belt and leaky tire.It's always darkest before dawn.So if you're going to steal your neighbor's newspaper, that's the time to do it.Don't be irreplaceable. If you can't be replaced, you can't

Rivernoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1130896178614715692005-11-01T23:54:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:28:59.875-05:00

We had country ham for breakfast this morning. Of course we had grits, fried eggs and biscuits, too. We were eating at 3:30 am. Why, you ask? Because we woke up, got up, read the paper, cooked and laughed in our white paneled kitchen while the world slept. Well, everybody except the paperlady, that is.The distant highway was silent as we sat drinking our coffee discussing the climate of the hour.

Rivernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1130856324987411962005-11-01T13:40:00.000-05:002006-11-03T09:28:59.764-05:00

�Naked Piñata’ Night At Riverfront Saloon Ends With ArrestOur county is once again safe from the scourge of unauthorized nekkidness. Yep, vice cops went undercover at the Riverfront Saloon situated on the county line early this morning after being tipped off to “Naked Piñata” night by a “reliable source”, aka radio commercials.There is an ordinance against public nekkidness

Rivernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1130450895016158842005-10-27T18:05:00.000-04:002006-11-03T09:28:59.712-05:00

The Court House square was at one time the center of the business district of my town.

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1130257270029407392005-10-25T11:49:00.000-04:002006-11-03T09:28:59.658-05:00

Old memories never die and I love hearing my daughters chatter about life as they knew it before boys were men and girls were women. Here are their responses to my memory of their backyard camp out. ~Ada Lee Bryan~Little Blond haired girl comments.."Hey everyone! This is one of the little girls the author has mentioned....yes, the youngest of four that camped with her older sister...the sister

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1130165024592604602005-10-24T09:50:00.000-04:002006-11-03T09:28:59.552-05:00

I can’t say that I like to cook because something always goes wrong. It has to be done once in a while though. Unfortunately, part of my soul leaves the immediate vicinity of my body once I consume a meal I've cooked. Experiments count.My mind is convinced that my soul is just jealous. After all, the soul gives me occasional twinges of conscience when I steal bread from my husband's plate;

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1129980240842325862005-10-22T11:58:00.000-04:002006-11-03T09:28:59.319-05:00

The Good Ship Tootsie Pop was drifting along az well az could be spected until Sunday when we got our plow hung under another %&#@%$!!** root…Thu Good Ship Lollipop had COOTIES!!!!!Poppy shouted awl day l-o-o-ng....back his usual heek, "SET ALL SAILS AND THROW ME A BRASS MONKEY". Befoah ah could throw him any monkeys ah had tuh first destroy thet ill wind's ability to maneuver and splice the

Rivernoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1129927419279439592005-10-21T15:53:00.000-04:002006-11-03T09:28:59.270-05:00

This is for anyone who lives or ever lived in My Town; visited or plans to visit My Town, knows anyone who has lived or visited My Town or has ever even heard of My Town.An All American City it sits on the highest above sea-level elevation in the state of Florida and is composed mostly of streets going north and south. If you take the scenic drive around the court house square you wind up on the

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1129660713663284122005-10-18T14:20:00.000-04:002006-11-03T09:28:59.217-05:00

My day was long and had worn on my nerves. Weary of being on call to a demanding job, parenting four daughters and the uphill battle of self-analysis I wished for another time, another place. Supper was a lost cause and my children were honing their navigating, contemplating, pondering and sassing adolescent skills. Night was closing in and their father was out of town when I threw up my

Rivernoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1129501367384332422005-10-16T18:12:00.000-04:002006-11-03T09:28:59.165-05:00

Like all of our daughters, Jackie B. suffered from distemper of youth. In her case it was cured by small doses of repentance in connection with experience. In her heart are a tiger, Raggedy Andy and a nightingale. Her heart is most assuredly dominated by the nightingale who sings life’s sweetest music in the face of adversity.The founder of “Goodson Girl Birth Order Number III”, aka GBON³,

Rivernoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1129287734867311092005-10-14T06:53:00.000-04:002006-11-03T09:28:59.061-05:00

I Don't Need Anything At All People think of lonely thingsWhen leaves begin to fallSteeped in proper social standingNow I don't need anything at all.Looking at dreams I'm masteringWhat you did wrong I don't recallMy heart stops when the phone ringsBut I don't need anything at all.My favorite things are magnolia treesAnd distant winds rememberingA haze of humidity shimmering freeNo, I don't need

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1129213011927632932005-10-13T10:04:00.001-04:002011-07-10T17:51:16.272-04:00

It's October, a month of helpless sadness.Gracie left home last Thursday. Days passed and with them the hope she would return. Sleepless nights of dispair as our family, one by one, kept vigil. Just yesterday, or was it really October 26,2002, when our family fell silent, never again to feel insulated from pain and suffering after our conversation with death.Gracie appeared in late November of

Rivernoreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-17779919.post-1129209073892809262005-10-13T09:09:00.001-04:002010-03-27T18:06:01.046-04:00

6:00 something am - 10-13-05Out of the night I come even though the sun is not up here in north Florida. Last night a sound like no other echoed through the hills - the sound of winter coming.10-13-05 - 12:04 pmIt's quiet this afternoon. Phone rings occasionally which is a surprise and my feet hurt most of the time.The dehumidifer hums.Old age, I am told by the professionals, has its surprises.

Rivernoreply@blogger.com0