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Back in February, before we awoke and found ourselves in a world that had changed overnight, my grandkids Collin and Madeleine and I were making plans for our summer vacation that would start the day after school was over for the summer.

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About this time last year, I was making reservations and traveling plans for a trip to the Smoky Mountains with grandchildren Collin and Madeleine, my best-ever traveling buddies.

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My son Jeff called me this morning, full of elation because he received two installments of the promised checks the government is adding to unemployment insurance benefits.

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The coronavirus pandemic that is sweeping our nation — along with nearly all the other countries in world — is frightening and life-changing.

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Last week, I suffered through an experience that left me with burning red cheeks and a blood pressure that sent the numbers climbing.

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I’m a skilled online shopper. Everything from vitamins to Skecher shoes may show up at my door any given day. In fact, a couch is scheduled to be delivered to my house tomorrow and I haven’t been near the Rooms To Go furniture store that is only about a mile from my house.

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Recently I made a vow to myself that I would stop telling people how old I am. I had two reasons for doing this— first, I no longer get the reaction of “You don’t look a day over 50,” and second, I feel like I might be using this age thing in order to be coddled and cosseted, and a strong fe…

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Recently, during a visit with my granddaughter Jade, she told me that she especially loved one of the pictures hanging on my wall that I had painted years ago. The artist in me was thrilled that she liked the creativity of the piece, and the grandmother in me determined that I would make sur…

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Hooray — this is the last week in May, which means school will be out next week and then the week after that is vacation time. I can’t wait.

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Memorial Day will be celebrated Monday. Once again veterans of all ages, from many different conflicts, will be acknowledged and honored for their bravery in defending freedom for the citizens of our great United States of America.

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I think about myself a lot, probably much more than I should. But, believe me, becoming an 83-year-old woman involves a massive amount of changes in one’s body and also in one’s thought processes.

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I can hear what you are saying to yourself — “There she goes talking about recliners again. The woman is clearly obsessed.”

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If you drive past my house early in the morning — about 7:30 a.m. that is — and again at 6 p.m. or a little later, a strange sight will grab your attention.

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Yesterday, as I was half dozing, and half listening to TV during the wee hours of the morning, of course the channel playing was the ID show — true stories of murder and mayhem.

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Yesterday, as I was half dozing, and half listening to TV during the wee hours of the morning, of course the channel playing was the ID show — true stories of murder and mayhem.

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The frigid weather we have been experiencing the last couple of days has literally —well, almost — brought me to my knees.

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In its way, 2018 has been a very hard year as loved ones left us behind to face life on this earth without them.

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You’ve heard me whine a few times about no longer being able to dance. I still regret that I never learned how to do a proper line dance to a country swing song, and I was always out of sync when I tried to keep up with other dancers doing the Electric Slide.

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I have been placing the obituaries for our local newspaper for more than 20 years. And during that time, I have been personalizing these obituaries with a small comment under the name of the deceased, a comment expressing the personality or the passions that drove each individual.

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For almost three years of my life, my parents and I lived 10 miles out of town in beautiful countryside located in the Smoky Mountains of  Western North Carolina.

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It’s incredible. Exactly three weeks ago in the early hours of the morning, I was doing the exact thing I was doing this morning — listening to Jim Cantore and Stephanie Abrams warn coastal residents about a hurricane that could reach the coast as a Cat 4 storm with winds exceeding 140 mph.

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As I write this, it’s 5:30 a.m.and I’m coming off another night when sleep played hide-and-seek with me and, naturally, being discovered when it was almost time to get up.

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Yesterday after a hard day’s work, my son Jeff and I sat in a specially marked parking spot outside the Olive Garden restaurant, waiting patiently for our orders of eggplant parmigiana to arrive.

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The realization that I spend a lot of time thinking came to me the other day as I was watching one of my favorite soap operas.

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I know I spend a worrisome amount of time thinking about food — at least three times a day everyday without fail — and that doesn’t include midday or nighttime snacks.