Another “McCoy Boy!”Meet Arthur Ellis McCoy, weighing in at 8lbs. 3 oz. on Tuesday, August 16th. He is beyond precious.
In the years before Covid, everyone’s dance card (so-to-speak) was full, and high-society-photographer’s evenings were busy as they party-hopped, taking pictures. But not anymore.
In high school, Pat Matthews had a compulsion to create and his talent was evident by the art competitions he entered and won. But, alas, he knew the career of a young artist was uncertain. This rational thinking led him to a degree in architecture.
Have you heard of the 10,000-hour rule? It was made popular by author Malcom Gladwell, who wrote the bestselling book, Outliers: The Story of Success. Mr. Gladwell said you need 10,000 hours practice at something to be a phenom. To be freakishly awesome, and to be such a standout among your peers that your first name is enough to tell people who you are: Think Peyton, Tiger, Venus, Kobe, Oprah.
No longer having mouths to feed at home, I was able to travel to Connecticut this past weekend to see a long-time friend of mine’s daughter get married. It was fun. The weather was picture perfect, the mountains and rivers plentiful, and the roads windy.
Young people often ask me, “What was your favorite age?” My answer is always the same: “Now.”
The Dallas Cowboys football team is about as close to a pro sports team as Arkansas gets. We Arkansans relate to them because their current owner, Jerry Jones, and their former coach, Jimmy Johnson, both harken from Arkansas. And their alma mater, the U of A, is a feeder school for the team’s new recruits.
At the end of a long Mother’s Day, Grady said to me, “Sorry you had to work so hard.” My reply was honest and simple: “I enjoyed it.”
This summer will be my 50-year high school reunion. Like all reunions, it snuck up and surprised me. But it didn’t surprise me as much as the phone call I got, later.
After traveling, I’m burned out on eating out and, yet, bored with my own home cooking. I’d love a plain-old BLT, but tomatoes aren’t in season. Currently, very little is in season. It is late for apples and oranges and too early for summer produce, but strawberries are close to being harvested in Arkansas.
My mother always said, no matter how old her children got, she wanted to see where they lived. That it made her rest better. And now, that is the way I feel, too.
At the funeral for a friend’s father, I thought about the deceased. How he had affected my life. How, on…
Have you heard the phrase “sitting is the new smoking?” I only recently heard it and, when I did, it rang true.
Driving to work one crisp morning, I saw a home whose front yard had been rolled. Though I know, from experience, it is a mess to clean up, I still found it endearing. The graceful flowing of the toilet paper blowing in the wind caused me to circle the block and stop to watch it.
I know it is late for a Christmas gift idea, but I was late in finding out about this one.
Deciding to shop local for some last-minute gifts, I went into Dandelion Home and Garden a newly opened, little gift and plant store in the Hillcrest neighborhood of Little Rock, Arkansas.
Arkansas doesn’t have a pro team, but it feels like we do. The University of Arkansas Razorbacks are our state’s passion. In sports bars and restaurants, alike, fans show support by unabashedly “calling the Hogs” and then high fiving each other in solidarity.
I realize that the thought of getting older is not usually an item on one’s gratitude list. But it is on mine, and not because I am a cancer survivor, or anything. It is much simpler than that.
There is no scientific proof that war is ingrained in human nature, according to a study by Brian Ferguson, professor of anthropology at Rutgers University-Newark.
But I don’t need scientific proof to know that every Fall, as deer season approaches, my husband and late father would get an itch. A drive to get outdoors, feel the change of season, and shoot something.
My little cancer baby on the end of my nose surprised everyone but me. I was awake through the whole MOH out-patient surgery. With my nose numb, the cancer surgeon took a dime size divot off of the tip and carried his new extraction into the other room to observe under a microscope.
Now, I am a person that goes to the dermatologist every year. For years, my doctor has recommended a preventative, deep-facial peel for the sun damage done to my fair skin during my youth. The only problem I have with this suggestion is the recovery time. For a week after this procedure, you look like a reptile during molting season. So, I put it off until last November when, once again, the doctor reminded me of the peel and went on to say that it was also good for getting rid of fine lines (he should have mentioned that earlier).