It is hard to believe, in this day and age, that small men with big egos are still willing and able to wage war on innocent women and children. If you could get through his carefully narrated propaganda campaign, you might argue he is doing this for his country, if his countrymen weren’t protesting in the streets.
At the funeral for a friend’s father, I thought about the deceased. How he had affected my life. How, on…
The idea of a dancing fundraiser came from a young party planner named John. That’s all I remember about him, other than that he had short, blond hair. In 2009, he had followed a girl to Little Rock, started his party planning business, got divorced (or never married), and he left town.
In my mind, the term “dust bowl” no longer creates images of the Oklahoma drought of the 1930’s, described by John Steinbeck in the book Grapes of Wrath. Now, it describes my current work week.
After 40+ years in business I had my first ever mandatory evacuation by the Little Rock Fire Department.
It was late morning on Tuesday when everyone in our conference room started smelling gas. Before long, we were all standing in the hall wondering, “Where is that coming from?” and claiming it’s worse in our room than anyone else’s.
How do we come back? Or even, do we come back? And, if we do, when and how do we come back?
After a two-year hiatus that started with the first Covid outbreak, these are the questions that the Friends of Dreamland (FOD) had to ask themselves. And the answers are, respectively: Yes, Yes, February 12th, and with a safe fundraiser called Dancing Into Dreamland (DID).
How Kerry McCoy Became an Enterprise
Last summer, Mrs. Elm got some bad news; she was diagnosed with incurable Dutch Elm disease. I was crushed at her prognosis and wrote about it in an earlier blog post. In that post, I professed that there are many unexplained miracles and cures that happen every day and, if there’s no scientific cure for Mrs. Elm, then it is time to move to plan B–a miracle. To enlist a miracle, you must have hope, faith, prayer, and ritual.
Saturday is errand day. My husband and I are in the car when I notice he keeps rolling the window up and down. Finally, he asks, “Do your feet stink?”
Turning 65 was, of course, no accident. I proudly earned every year.…