There’s this joke that old-time musicians used to like to tell, but maybe now it’s only popular amongst us fiddlers: Q: How do you get a banjo player off your porch? A: You pay for your pizza. It’s just a bit of good-natured humor, but I don’t think Michael liked it. I knew Michael was … Continue reading How do you get a banjo player off your porch?
Mom always loved Jesus more than she loved me. She told me so herself, over and over again, when I was growing up. Every morning she would say to me, “Jimmy, you’re my only child, and I love you more than I love myself. But I love Jesus even more.” Then she would read the … Continue reading My Mother’s Burnt Offerings
There’s this little flower shop on the way home from the office. At least, I thought it was a flower shop. The sign on the window says, “Granny’s Yarbs and Apothecary.” I wasn’t sure what to make of a name like that, but since the dirty shop windows were filled with plants and blooms I … Continue reading I said it with flowers. That was a mistake.
My culinary misadventures into inadvertently assisting in the summoning what I can only assume is a demon began innocently enough. It all started just over a year ago with one of those meal box subscriptions. Learning to cook for myself after Mama died wasn’t hard, but all the rest of the process of preparing my … Continue reading That new subscription meal box really sucked