My toddler has a late bedtime. I may even be playing it fast and loose with the term "bedtime." My husband and I try to get our 2-year-old to bed by 9 p.m., but really, what time she actually goes to sleep is anybody's guess.
My grandmother - Daddy's mother - sometimes was called "crazy" by others who didn't quite understand her eccentric ways. Of course, in the South, we are proud of such a label because it means that we are interesting and worthy of being the center of coffee-and-cake conversation.
A restaurant's appetizer can influence my decision to make a return visit. Even something as simple as the dry-roasted peanuts I wolf down while waiting for my Five Guys burger is something I consider before deciding which burger joint to visit.
On Sept. 11, 2001, our way of life in the United States changed forever.
The things you learn while surfing the Internet in desperation for column material.
It was an early summer morning, an enchanting time when flowers were blooming, blackberries were spurting to full growth and the birds were happy to have sunny warmth. I had taken myself out to the back porch, where I often settle down to write after I have finished a gentle run.
Toddlers have very active imaginations. My 2-year-old daughter comes up with some pretty tall tales and, while I know they aren't malicious, I'm conflicted about whether I should draw a line when it comes to "fanciful fibs." I don't want her to grow up thinking it's acceptable to lie; however, I'm also quite certain that at the age of 2, she doesn't even understand what a lie is. How and when can you teach a toddler not to do something she doesn't even realize she's doing?
In my home hangs a photograph of a rather large and deep hole on the side of an asphalt road. It is the aftermath of an improvised explosive device - or, in more simple terms, a homemade bomb - that went off just as the Humvee in which I was riding passed over it.
What's a state to do when the federal surface transportation program heads toward its Sept. 1 expiration date with little promise of a new transportation bill, and the Federal Highway Trust Fund's expenditures outpace tax receipts about $1.25 billion a month?
Voter turnout was abysmal during last month's primaries, despite important races for governor and both the First Congressional District and one of Georgia's two seats in the Senate. Statewide, less than 20 percent of registered voters participated. In Liberty County, that number was even lower - only 17.6 percent of the county's 24,733 registered voters bothered to exercise their right to help elect their leaders.
Mama used to fry biscuits. If you had known Mama, that wouldn't surprise you, because she fried every food possible. In the course of her life, I knew her to fry green beans, corn, grits and cornmeal mush.
I wish toddler enthusiasm was infectious. I love seeing my 2-year-old daughter happy about anything and, to an extent, her elation at simple things does wear off on me. However, it would be nice if I could get as excited about anything in life - anything at all - as Reese does about blowing bubbles. Or sitting in a wading pool in the backyard. Or getting a taste of apple juice that hasn't been cut with water to reduce the sugar content.
MOULTRIE - I recently tried to make a phone call to a company to address an issue relative to my profession. As I would expect, I got a recording. This is the world we live in today.
One Sunday, while sitting around the dinner table, my sister Louise and I began to tell "Daddy stories" - the ones that stretched back to the early days of his preaching life. Since I was born 12 years after he was "made a preacher," as our folks said back then, I could only contribute what he had told to me about those days, not what I had seen.
Right after my daughter's birth, I thought I never had enough time to get things done. I had a new baby, I'd just returned to work and I was adjusting to a lot of "firsts." While I enjoyed my precious, new little one and devoted as much time as I possibly could to my career, laundry stacked up, dishes went unwashed, tumbleweeds of dog hair and dust rolled lazily across the kitchen floor and a thin layer of dust coated nearly every surface in my house.
Today's Scripture reading: Acts 19: 11-16 (NIV).
Are you HomeProud? Thankfully, many homeowners in our community are, and we are delighted to showcase a few of them this month.
Some national business organizations have hammered the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) for proposing new rules on carbon pollution from existing power plants, cutting carbon emissions by 30 percent by 2030, using 2005 levels as a baseline. What planet are they on?
If Congress actually listened to small-business owners, the minimum wage would be going up.
As far back as 2010, the Ogeechee River has been called one of the most threatened rivers in the country by environmental groups such as the Southeast Environmental Law Center.
Editor, I never would have thought a small block of wood measuring about 1.5 inches by 2 inches could make me so angry.
In 1997, then-Gov. Zell Miller appointed me to fill a vacant seat on the five-member State Ethics Commission and then reappointed me to a full term, in which I served until 2002.
To this conclusion I have come: the most deadly years of our lives are the ages of 16 to 21. Those years give us a headiness that comes from new freedom - a driver's license - and the passing of the torch from strict childhood rules to more trust, different restraints and relaxed curfews.
Editor, Mexico and Guatemala have finalized a deal that will allow Guatemalans (who normally would be arrested and deported or imprisoned in Mexico) to travel on 72-hour passes through Mexico on their way to our Southern border.
I love a good rainstorm - I always have. My mother used to check the weather forecast for thunderstorms because I was fascinated by them and wanted to watch them outside. However, it's not really a good idea to sit outside during a thunderstorm.
My 2-year-old is a chatterbox. I have no idea where she gets it from. (I'm being sarcastic, of course; it's obviously a trait passed down directly from me.)
Not a single person in my breakfast club has mentioned the "blood moon." And that includes me, until now. I wasn't really sure what it was even though my emails from some preacher have hammered me recently with a "better beware" kind of verbiage.
Editor, Lately your newspaper has printed several letters stating that Buddy Carter is just like Jack Kingston. These claims are extreme exaggerations and pretty farfetched.