More Memories of June 19: What the Angels Eat

Yesterday I shared a Juneteenth memory--roasting ears. Today I'm sharing memories of two more foods that made June special. The first is even better than roasting ears: watermelon, which is grown around Luling, ten miles from my hometown. Corn could be frozen for use any time, but when I was a child, watermelon made you w-a-i-t. … Continue reading More Memories of June 19: What the Angels Eat

Happy Birthday, Veazey

Today is my cousin Mary Veazey's birthday. I will not say how old she is. I'll say only that she is old enough that she's always thought she had the right to boss me around. We have had many good times together. The most memorable, right now, aside from the times we almost broke up church … Continue reading Happy Birthday, Veazey

You’re Sixty

Today would have been my mother's ninety-eighth birthday. On last May 1, my father would have been one hundred. When I take the time to really think about that, it's mind-boggling. I can't imagine them at those ages. Mother used to tell a story about my great-aunt Lydia's sixtieth birthday. Lydia, her mother, her two … Continue reading You’re Sixty

Billie

My father would have been ninety-nine years old today. In September, he'll have been gone for thirty-one years. It's easier to imagine him as the child in this picture than to imagine him at ninety-nine. Of two things, however, I'm certain: If here were here today, his blue eyes would still be twinkling, and  he … Continue reading Billie

Billie

My father would have been ninety-eight years old today. In September, he'll have been gone for thirty years. It's easier to imagine him as the child in this picture than to imagine him at ninety-eight. Of two things, however, I'm certain: If here were here today, his blue eyes would still be twinkling, and  he … Continue reading Billie

“I should wash him!”

"Well, then," returned my aunt… "Now, here you see young David Copperfield, and the question I put to you is, what shall I do with him?" "What shall you do with him?" said Mr. Dick, feebly, scratching his head. "Oh! Do with him?" "Yes," said my aunt, with a grave look, and her forefinger held … Continue reading “I should wash him!”