Rice supplies the diet of more human beings than any other plant, even wheat. Because we have so many complements to entrees in America, perhaps we are sorely unaware of its power.

My mother’s kitchen sorely missed an ingredient I use almost daily:  onions. During my father’s service during WWII, he declared the food in the mess hall contained a host of this ingredient in unfamiliar dishes. Afterward, that root vegetable was forbidden on North Madison Avenue. However, …

We, who are of an age, remember the study of grammar as the fulcrum of our English instruction. Grammar books, rather than literature texts, were meant to be thoroughly memorized and its rules applied in the classroom and out.

In late spring, I wrote of moving, untraditional advice from Supreme Court Justice John Roberts on the occasion of his son’s middle school graduation. This address caught the attention of many readers as I have enjoyed the comments from many opposing views that come together in approval for …

I always loved Homecomings at Pleasant Valley Methodist Church; they came in summer’s heat, but we of an age did not mind paper fans, overhead swirlings and sleeveless dresses. Because my Pa Jim sang in the choir, the anthem was my favorite part of the service. I could watch him just sit and…

My beloved mother Bill Armstrong was known to her immediate family as “The Fixer.” Whenever she thought life awry for those she loved, Bill rolled into action to redirect the situation as she saw the better outcome. As most of us know, this formidable task is seldom accomplished with mutual …

During my first viewing of “Gone with the Wind,” I was entranced by the prie dieu chairs the O’Hara family used for serious prayer with rosaries. Even though my wonderful next door neighbor, Dot Briscoe, was Catholic, I never saw the same furniture in her home. From then on, I viewed such hu…

August’s ending seemed the beginning of fall’s tempered season, not the swelter of summer’s end. While the beach’s last call seems out of place in such weather, sultry bows to cool in foreshadowing the season which seems to curry opposing sentiments.

The inundation of ads on TV and news­print parlay the resolution of becoming the visual person of one’s dreams is heavy upon us. Most statistics show that falling off the diet wagon and slowly pulling away from gym appearances begins in about a month. Very few of us do not fight the battle o…

Often, I have remarked: I do not remember when I could not read. Friends and family who know me well would echo my perspective that the gift has nothing to do with intellect, but rather an anchor that has given me my life’s work and pleasure.

Sunday, as I was captured by the flower arrangement that always graces the center of our altar above the baptismal pool, I thought how the colors spoke to the season we now enter.

If I were advising a young lady smitten by a fine lad, I would suggest she prepare him an apple pie, warmed and snuggled by ice cream.

A few weeks back, I spied large watermelons greatly reduced in price but lovely.

An old friend of mine has participated in a masquerade for decades:  She deceives her family of males by crying, “Ham and egg pie for supper!” all the while acknowledging a quiche will emerge from her oven.

That Thomas Jefferson and his Virginia neighbors sportingly enjoyed producing the first dish of the delightful vegetable, green peas remains a spring legend.

Now that all my readers have disposed of excess clothing, paper and books, on to the final round.

For most of my life, I would describe my view of organization as moderate.

“To be happy at home,” pens Samuel Johnson, “is the ultimate result of all ambition, the end to which every enterprise and labor ends.” How many of us nowadays can add the labor of making a living can center there as well? To be at home and rear one’s children, be it mother or father, provid…

Since I have been working on cataloging recipes in recent months as well as paying attention to how I go about everyday cooking, an element I want to discuss poses the Japanese term, “umami.” While I found a bit of derogatory talk concerning an overuse by tastemakers and chefs, I am convince…

When I retrieve my morning papers at present, I often see lines of traffic, yellow buses dotting the vehicles, as I live near Newnan’s largest high school as well as an elementary school a homerun away from my back deck.

A few weeks after my son Charles and his wife Andrea married, they shopped for groceries at a chain grocery in Griffin, where they lived then and now. Charles searched the meat counter for bargains, namely those he knew by the orange stickers favored by his mother.

I just finished three icebox pies, which will really become freezer pies when I can make room for them. Surprisingly, that condensed milk version of filling continues to be a favorite dessert. Our famous barbecue emporium in Newnan, Sprayberry’s, has made them since Mrs. Houston Sprayberry w…

My dear comrade in the teaching world, Mike Head, reminded me often, “Ms. A, don’t pray for patience, or God will send you trial after trial.” Notwithstanding its enviable reputation as a virtue, patience seems on the wane in our world of instant gratification.

“Love at first sight” can describe many aspects of my life from romantic to practical. In the aromatic world, I must slightly abridge the expression to note that the lemon bid “love at first whiff.”

In these days that plead for remaining housebound, I saw an image I welcome as a harbinger of spring: the birds swooping to devour the holly berries in the large tree that I pleasantly view year round in washing dishes.

The first day of the new year has come and gone, with little resolve from me. Last year I put in a few determinations: read more, take days off aimlessly, do more for others and continue to pare down my belongings and everyday tasks.

Among the plentiful Christmas mailings last week appeared information regarding Thomas Jefferson’s 10 rules for life. Many of them are familiar to me; however, one never crossed my memory:  Take things always by their smooth handle.

Last week, as I fetched my newspapers from the walkway, blades of sunlight brought hopes of a successful day in that warmth. Just a few weeks earlier, I had returned from watching the sun from angles far from home. Perhaps that sun symbol, which we assume as truth, awoke a perspective of lif…