This time my column publish date is on Thanksgiving Day. I am supposed to talk about agriculture, but not about politics.
Unbelievably, this is my eighth Thanksgiving since moving to beautiful Coastal Georgia. No Thanksgiving would be complete in our household without a touch of bubbly - champagne! We celebrate all of the blessings for which we are thankful for with a bottle or two.
My days of being a football widow are numbered. The bowl game season is upon us and the Super Bowl is right around the corner.
Here in Richmond Hill and everywhere else, isn't it time we do a little flag-waving and count our blessings, even if we are trying to deal with this bad economy and all other trials and tribulations? It shows who we are.
It's funny sometimes how a prevailing thought will come to you in the middle of the night, and in my case I often jump out of bed and make a note of it – just in case that thought dissipates into the cosmos before morning.
He's home! Those words are the constant ringing in my ears and echo in my mind.
For many who do last-minute holiday shopping, speed is essential. There's no more time to ponder and compare and wander the aisles looking for the perfect gift.
Q: Help! Whenever our two adult children, their spouses and our four school-age grandchildren (all "tweenagers") visit us, as they did this past Thanksgiving, chaos reigns.
Santa and those nimble little elves can be seen just about everywhere these days. And with the frequent appearances of St. Nick and endless store advertisements, our children and grandchildren are reciting mile-long Christmas wish lists. But even with lists, choosing presents that are both fun and safe can be confusing for the average shopper.
As I write this, the cotton harvesters are busy picking lint and bailing modules in Bryan County's cotton fields. If you are driving on the roads in the north end of the county, you might have seen them: huge 40-foot-long, 10-foot-tall oversized loaves of bread with a tarp on top sitting out in a field of picked-over cotton.
If your preteen child hasn't hit you up yet for a cell phone, you're among a rare breed indeed. Studies have found that roughly 70 percent of 11- to 14-year-olds now use cell phones. Closer to home, our 10-year-old has been hounding my wife and me for months to get his own phone.
It had been a while since I'd made it back home to Iowa. The 40-degree temperatures had me dreaming of an 80-degree November and fans instead of fireplaces. It's only recently come to my attention that Georgia has truly become home.
Overheard in a mall when a weary child asked his package-laden mother: "Mom, can we stop shopping yet?"
Every so often, when I'm feeling in an especially mischievous mood (as opposed to my typically mischievous mood), I award a RALPH - Rosemond's Awfully Ludicrous Parenting Honor - to either a parenting pundit who has given exceedingly bad parenting advice or a parent who has done something exceedingly foolish. In either case, to qualify one must have caught the attention of the media.
By Shirley Hiers