Month: December 2012

The Uncertainty of Being Southern

As my husband ate a haystack, munching away, I thought about my earlier conversation with the man at the fireplace shop. “Why are they called dog irons?” I asked. I only asked the man this question after walking through his entire 50,000 square foot store and not seeing one dog on the fireplace equipment. He said, “They’re not. They’re andirons.” Southern...

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The God Moment

I am struggling to get at something. The thing is important, undiminished by my fuzziness as to exactly what it is. It has to do with what is important in this world. Not what we are told should be important. But, for me, what is, in fact, important. The triggering event: I was sitting in writing group listening to the writers read their work...

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The Dog Cured My Arthritis

When I was 52, I began to lose the ability to walk. Arthritis in my left hip led me to quit modeling, quit wearing high heels, quit walking for my health. “You won’t need a hip replacement,” my rheumatologist told me, “for at least a year or two.” Determined to beat that projection, I undertook a physical therapy/yoga/stretching regimen. It was...

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