When Mama and I went back-to-school clothes shopping at Kmart, there was everything: thrills, extreme danger, catfights, and con games.

 I turned 55, and something strange happened. Suddenly 50-year-olds were saying “yes ma’am” and “no ma’am” to me. The people in the TV ads for geriatric drugs and step-in tubs were looking like me. I started mocking millennials and...well, you'll just have to listen. 

Researchers have found that the Georgia version of the Southern accent is fading away. Resist, I say. RESIST!

I know you should let the wild things be wild.  But when a hugely pregnant cat is yowling for food at your front door...

That time I was summoned to Nashville to write a tell-all about a country music legend.  Shortly after, I was approached to pen a true crime book about the murder of a bar owner. Two books that were not mine to write.

Within a week of publication of my memoir, the first stalker appeared. Two more would follow.  I never dreamt one of them would sneak into my home.

In a gritty Savannah neigborhood, the Rutabaga Woman shines a light and brings water to the thirsty.

A writing life is nurtured in beautiful, decadent, messy Savannah.

If your report cards said you talked too much, this story is in your honor.

My first homily at the age of four. Being Southern, of course the topic had to do with sins against good food.