Just a-Swingin’
Come sit a spell. There are miserable things about living in the South. I’m not talking about racism and poverty, which are everywhere. (I’ve…
Pea Shell, My Belle
I’ve repaired Adirondack chairs that were rotting and turned shipping pallets into adorable porch swings. But for my money (or lack thereof), peapod wine is the ultimate trash-to-treasure. We literally are turning shells that were bound to be thrown in with hog slop into quite drinkable table wine.
Hard: Wood Floors
It takes a lot to make this grown man cry. When our party of five watched the (Mister) Fred Rogers documentary “Won’t You Be…
Jenn-yard
Eighty-seven pictures of medallions, set in stone, hammered in metal, or painted in fresco. It didn’t matter if they were on the streets of…
Hang Down Your Head
If the deck at our house were a little taller, we’d be able to see the top of the North Highlands Dam from it,…
Whatever We Deny or Embrace
Scouring secondhand stores is nothing new for me. One day last week I realized that I was clothed entirely in used gear, excepting my…
Knock on Wood
Opening a can of hearth-be-gone in this room. If there were any questions about my latent adolescence, they’ve been pounded away with the mallet…
Lucky Strike
I don’t take much to jewelry, personally. In high school, I convinced my mom and dad that I had to have a class ring…
Skeleton at the Feast 2017
“I’ve found my thing, and that’s what I stick with,” a friend once told me, when I was trying to push her into some…