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Mushrooms or Martians?

We have rain. For the first time in months. Two drops, and now we’ve got mushrooms in the courtyard. That’s the way New Orleans is. Nothing by halves. These are not your everyday button-cute mushrooms (see my previous sentence). These are huge mushrooms. White with round tops like Martian ships. Big Martian ships, hovering together....

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Veterans Day 2023

This Veterans Day 2023, I’m remembering our early days of living in New Orleans. I would often ride the City of New Orleans train from Memphis to the city. One trip, I was standing in the line at the canteen—trains have snack bars on their lower levels where you can buy drinks and chips. Shortly before, our armed services had lifted their “Don’t...

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Phillis Wheatley Poetry Fest

I will take this extra hour of Daylight Savings Time’s end to tell you about this week’s Phillis Wheatley Poetry Fest in Jackson. Jackson State University sponsored the fest. The attendees met both in the downtown Convention Center and on the JSU campus. It was fabulous. Concurrent sessions began each day. A large gathering in the theater...

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Plant Therapy

It’s as if we’ve been in stasis since May. First, we went to Europe. Then to Canada. Then to Colorado. In between we bought a condo in Memphis and went to Jackson, Jackson, Jackson. All that time, the house in New Orleans waited. The HVAC dying. Weeds growing in the sidewalk. The courtyard unattended. The tropicals were...

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Update on the Legacy Wall and Retreating Dangers

Hi, y’all. I’ve been writing, and that has taken my eyes off posting. Time for an update. Legacy Wall Unveiling Yesterday, we attended the Legacy Wall unveiling ceremony at Jackson State University. Because of our support of the English Department’s creative writing program, Tom and I got our names on the wall. I am so grateful...

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Creativity Inside a Supportive Group

Today in writing group, I wrote about how practicing law haunts me. Why the hell do I dream about it every week, every ten days, every two weeks. Never more than a month goes by without a “practicing law” dream. Inside the writing, buried as deep as the pea beneath the hundred stacked mattresses, was the question: what gives you your...

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September Stories, or Happy New Year!

Today, driving down St. Charles, our oldest grandson said, “That sign says ‘Happy New Year.'” A conversation ensued about whether the sign was still up or already up. I thought, September has always been the New Year to me. When I see the calendar in my brain, it’s shaped like an Allen wrench. It goes straight across the...

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American Racism

If you think racism in America is a Southern problem, you are not paying attention. American racism has never been a Southern problem. Our federal government has always enforced racist norms. When Nat Turner rebelled, the federal government sent in the United States Navy to stop the uprising. Both the American Navy and Army were used to crush perhaps...

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My Attachment to Things, So Embarrassing

When Daddy Joe died—killed by a train in what the responding officer called as clean a t-bone as he’d ever seen—Mother said she stopped caring about things. Only people mattered. I always took this to mean that attachment to things was shallow. Yet. I love my new burnt sienna pillow cases in wrinkly linen. I love my 1950s TV trays I’m...

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