Looking out the window through the light mist I saw him, a stalker.
A little over a week ago I was headed to town when I spied a funny creature sitting on his hind legs beside a road running along the Tombigbee River.
Most of the time I find technology a little scary. I reviewed George Orwell's 1964 futuristic book "1984" for its possibilities. Electronic screens were located in public places -- I imagine like restaurants, waiting rooms, dentists' chairs, airports and along highways.
Blue Zones are calling my name. The magazine Worthwhile arrived in the mail with an article on Blue Zones. The Parade insert in the Sunday Dispatch (Jan. 12) ran an article on Blue Zones. By then I was intrigued and continued reading at their website (bluezones.com).
Once I lived where there were four distinct seasons all within their proper boundaries. It was quite predictable, though the winter seemed long and ice and snow turned to brown slush lasting well into spring. There's a certain advantage to growing up and living in the South. Very often all four seasons come within the same week.
Some of the suggestions from A. J. Jacobs' book "Drop Dead Healthy" bear repeating since it's January and we've all overindulged a bit -- and a lot of the gyms were closed for the holidays and, even if they were open, we weren't able to go because we had all the holiday festivities and guests to attend to.
Another Christmas is behind us, and soon another year. All the wrappings, boxes, bags, ribbons, and bows lay strewn across the floor, crammed into garbage bags, or neatly hand-pressed and folded for another year.
If Santa Claus was inspired by the generous bishop of Myra, then where did the reindeer and sleigh, the wreath and the tree, the lights and the cheery little poinsettia come from?
We don't quite have our Christmas decorations up yet, but we're thinking about it. Some years we cut a native cedar and other years we stop by a box store that sells Christmas trees. The store-bought trees are easier to decorate with their slender limbs and smooth needles. It's possible they are dyed. I've hauled them to the woods, and by spring they are still green.
Thanksgiving has come and gone, as have pre-Black Friday and Black Friday sales, along with the family members who graced our home for the Thanksgiving celebration. We had many things to give thanks for: reasonably good health, plenty of warmth and sunshine, and more good food than should be legal.
Many of us are preparing for our holiday feasting and perhaps how to manage our consumption for the least amount of damage. Last year I gain several pounds, and well into spring they were still hanging around. So, this year I am trying to do better and help my guests to do better as well. It's not as easy as you may think.
Just when I was busy flipping closets from summer to fall, hanging the door wreath and pinning orange, red and yellow silk leaves to the cedar lapboards, all in an effort to welcome in the autumn season, winter hit overnight. Temperatures plummeted to 15 degrees by morning.
Fall has been particularly lovely this year, perhaps because it came so quickly as a much-needed break from scorching temperatures. Now it appears fall is "leaving" just as fast as chilling temperatures arrive early.
Lately I've spent a lot of time driving back and forth along Highway 82 and Highway 45 between Columbus, Starkville and West Point. From West Point, traveling south toward Highway 82, on the crest of a hill I could see a fair distance to the next rise. Along that stretch I counted 12 large trucks -- 18 wheelers.
You might remember a column a couple of weeks back. Momma said when the State Fair comes the weather will turn cooler. Before the fair had ended and practically overnight, temperatures plummeted into the 40s.
You know, I saw a meme once depicting a man straddled across a stairway with one foot on a ladder and the other braced on the wall. The caption said, "Why women live longer than men."
Two weeks into fall and walking across the yard feels like walking on potato chips.
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