Opinions

There are times when Life moves along at a pretty predictable pace--so much so that you get rocked into some sort of complacency about the goodness which surrounds you.

I’ve always enjoyed Thanksgiving but many times I become distracted from the intended purpose. I confess that between football, conversations, and the delicious meals I often forget how much I have to be grateful for.

Domestic terrorism has become a term that recently has been tagged on some questionable targets, chief among them being parents of students who disapprove of either policy or teaching curriculum.

“Do you have grandchildren?” I asked with a kind and lilting voice, after being introduced to my newest cousin (by marriage) when we gathered in Alabama for Thanksgiving.

The timing of Ennis football coach Jack Alvarez stepping down to accept an offer elsewhere opened the door for the trumpeted return of Sam Harrell. Aspirations of additional state championship bling came naturally.

Amazing, isn’t it? For several years the mainstream media, a.k.a. the mouthpiece for the Democratic Party, has overwhelmed the nation with a story that was made up.

Once upon a time, there was a dog named Bette. She came to us as an adorable bundle of blonde fur—abandoned at the dump by despicable people who will someday burn in hell.

As the weather eases into fall temperatures, one is reminded of the forecast in Mexico, chili tonight and hot tamale.

When the thermometer dips ever so slightly, I grab the biggest pot I can find in my kitchen, and cook the life out of something.

One week, it was potatoes for potato soup.