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Features

  • I have resigned myself to the fact that I have absolutely no ability to conduct my life in a fashion befitting a woman in my particular demographic. The things that occur during the course of the week are absolutely mindless. The events have happened as a result of memory lapses or outright orneriness. I commit a blindingly ill-considered action which I know will result in something stupid, but I seem to have no ability to resist.

  • An old story illustrates the limitations caused by jumping to conclusions without considering the larger picture.
    A young soldier and his commanding officer boarded a train and sat down next to a grandmother traveling with her pretty young granddaughter. As they continued the trip, the young soldier and young lady were obviously attracted to each other. As the train roared through a tunnel, you heard a kiss and then a slap.
    The commanding officer rubbed his jaw and thought, “the young lady meant to slap my impudent soldier and hit me instead.”

  • Ten years ago I wrote: “My friend Mike ate breakfast last week, which is nothing short of a miracle.
    “He doesn’t shake anymore or wake up in the middle of the night sweating. The little green monkeys that haunt him are gone too.”
    This week, my friend Mike is celebrating 10 years being sober. Not just sober, but healed and forgiven, whole and hopeful. He’s tasted the mercy of God, felt his hand of grace that pulled him from the abyss.

  • July 10, 1986 (30 years ago)
    The Trimble County population continues to grow according to figures released by a Population Studies Program.  The study reveals that Trimble’s population has increased by 84 people from 1980-1985. Projected growth calls for added growth in the future, for instance predicting a population increase of 194 between the years of 1985 and 1990.

  • My husband was recently watching a tennis match on TV. At the risk of plagiarizing myself, “this man has never participated in a sport at which he did not excel. I on the other hand, have never participated in a sport in which I wasn’t a hazard to myself and others” (Crystanomoly, 2015). In the five years we have been married he has equipped me with various pieces of athletic paraphernalia. He has determined that he will transform his klutzy, baby giraffe into a graceful gazelle; Bless his heart.

  • This is a true story…except for the parts I made up.
    My cousin Pete and I spent our childhood summers on Granddaddy’s farm. He had set aside a pond in the “bottom 40” strictly for frog giggin’. Frog giggin’ is an egalitarian sport—you don’t need to be big or tall to participate or buy a $20,000 boat. All you need is a 5 gallon plastic bucket, a strong flashlight and a 3 pronged gigger; Duct tape the flashlight to the pitchfork and you’re good to go.

  • When I first met my husband he drove a brand-new 1973 Mercury Comet GT, white with orange pinstripes along the sides and orange vinyl interior -- and a manual transmission.
    As Barry attempted to teach me how to drive it, I proved myself to be a willing student, but not an adept one.
    I understood the whole clutch-brake-gas pedal thing in theory, but when it came to putting my foot on the correct pedal at the correct time there seemed to be either one too many pedals or I had one too few feet to do it right.

  • Characters—every family has them—our family was “blessed” with many. If you shook our family tree, more than a few nuts would fall out, and it was a heavy producer. With 40 uncles and aunts, (I’m not exaggerating…yet) there was never a shortage of unusual circumstances.

  • Every so often I’ll say to God, “With all due respect and with the full realization that you can fry me on the spot, which I admittedly deserve -- you have obviously lost your mind, Sir.”
    Here’s a perfect example: After many, many months of inviting a friend to my church, one day several years ago this friend finally decided to actually come.
    I should’ve been happy about that, but that particular week was right in the middle of a capital campaign, which meant the pastor would be talking about giving money.

  • July 3, 1986  (30 years ago)
    All ablaze; Both Milton and Bedford Fire Departments and EMS responded to the scene of two house fires shortly after 6 p.m. Monday. The property was recently purchased by Jack Olds, who wanted the vacant houses destroyed.  The fire departments and ambulance crews used the opportunity to stage a working fire drill.

  • I absolutely do not understand fashion. I realize that goes without saying if you know me, but I recently saw a commercial for a beauty product which baffled me.

  • Moses had a problem, not the one in the Bible, but the one down at our neighborhood grocery store.  

  • Although I don’t think it’s terminal, it is chronic: I have a chronic case of CRS -- Can’t Remember Stuff.
    That’s the diagnosis one of my co-workers gave me the other day. He may or may not have been joking.
    I tell people all the time to please, please, please remind me of stuff. It’s the CRS, folks. I just can’t remember.
    At least I’m not alone. The ancient Israelites had it too. They were always forgetting stuff, mostly the stuff God had done for them, even rescuing them from years of slavery in Egypt.

  • June 26, 1986 (30 years ago)
    Clyde “Jack” Greenwood died Friday, June 20 at King’s Daughters Hospital, Madison, Ind. A native of Trimble County, Greenwood wore two hats in the community, that of county judge for 24 years until January of this year and that of newspaper editor for 11 years. He currently served as Editor Emeritus of The Trimble Banner-Democrat.

  • My success rate with horticulture is hit or miss. Last year my garden deteriorated into a state of decaying, exploding chaos. I have no clue what happened. Whatever it was it was ugly. I’m positive my Dad is in Heaven shaking his head in dismay. He taught me better than that! I just managed to forget critical elements.

  • The old adage, “Truth is Stranger Than Fiction,” played out while I was eating breakfast one morning in Lynchburg, Tenn., (home of Jack Daniels Distillery and that might explain this story) sitting in one of those quintessential coffee shops that dot the town square of nearly every midwestern and southern town.

  • My grandfather sold insurance by day and in his spare time he was an artist.
    He mostly painted clowns -- scary clowns.
    A few of his paintings hung in our house, which meant as a kid I had major heebie jeebies nearly all the time, especially at night.
    When you’re a kid getting up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom and you know scary clowns are staring at you from the walls in the hallway, well, you grow up neurotic and afraid.

  • June 12, 1986 (30 Years Ago)
    The Kentucky Public Service Commission, recognizing Louisville Gas and Electric Company’s need for a date certain to use for planning and budgeting in connection with the electric generating unit that the Company is building in Trimble County, has found that July 1991 “is appropriate for these purposes.” But the PSC said it will continue to review and monitor the need for the Trimble County plant. LG&E had scheduled the unit for completion in mid-1988, but the PSC last fall ordered a delay of at least three years.