With all the summer rain, our pastures are green and Ireland-like lush. Our animals don’t need extra feed, but we ring a cow bell twice a day. The early and late ring-a-lings are the signal that snacks await in the barn.
We’ve been holding the Best of competition for five years now but it already feels like it’s always been a tradition in this town.
Each year, the enthusiasm, voter turnout and friendly competitiveness seems to increase.
The metal tube, with its intricate engravings and wooden handle, is numbered 128. From time to time, I touch it. But when I pick up the 31.5-inch-long piece of memorabilia, my mind rewinds to the summer of 1996.
Twenty-five years ago, my friend called and asked, “Don’t you want to run the torch?
Amid recent reports of sexual abuse against children here in the area, we think it’s an important time to remind folks about two victim advocacy groups that we are fortunate to have right here in the area: the Harmony House and Northeast Georgia Council on Domestic Violence.
Just thinking about the music to come was enough for me to begin to sniffle… July 4th our church choir (HFUMC) sang the most beautiful medley of patriotic songs you can imagine. Dressed in red, white and blue, each choir member sang their hearts out.
Some people in America believe that our country is a terrible place in which to live; they believe that it is filled with racists and suffers from a checkered past. In order to keep this position in full view, we are constantly barraged with negativity by some TV stations and newspapers.
Our 1969 wedding vows didn’t include “We will never live in each other’s hometowns.” But we agreed that Jesup and Camilla were out. I guess we missed Allen Saunders’ advice in Reader’s Digest.
I had my eyes on law school, and Pam’s were on UGA grad school.
This year, I’ll be joining a whole country of sports fans closely watching how the new name, image and likeness (NIL) rights impact college athletics and the domino effects on other industries and institutions.
Yes, I know.
Times are different.
This is 2021 in the 21st
century.
Even though this is a new era, I couldn’t keep quiet.
What I was hearing sounded like lunacy.
“But Mom, my friend charges $35 per hour to run errands and do special jobs,” the rising high school senior said.