Miles and miles of endless, empty roads, only the occasional passing freight truck for hours on end, vast open spaces on either side, sagebrush, sand, merciless sunshine, roadrunners darting across the asphalt, jarring hypnotized drivers awake faster than a double Big Jolt. The desert, to the uninitiated, seems barren, lifeless, a place to be gotten … More Cuisine in Arizona’s Sonoran Desert: Cholla Buds
When my father died in 2015, my mother pointed to a box of his cookbooks and told me to take anything I wanted. She’s never been much of a one to use cookbooks. And she hates clutter. One of the books in the box caught my eye, its bright blue cover filled with the sort … More Arizona Highways Heritage Cookbook: Riding through History via the Mouth and the Stomach
Many years ago, after my mother-in-law passed away from failed bypass surgery, hooked up to God knows how many tubes and wires in the ICU, I spent a lot of time thinking about her. And, of course, I still think of her often, regretting her absence in my life. The other day, while digging through … More Memories and Memory and Memoir
For a long time, when I thought of Spain, Extremadura came to mind. Not the fertile fields of Al-Andalus or the craggy green mountains of Catalonia. Extremadura’s vast barrenness revealed a deep truth to me when I first saw it. I’d studied it, as well the lives of the conquistadores from Extremadura, the ones who’d … More The Rice in Spain, Not So Easy to Explain
Esther Serena Chesnut Haile, born in Camden, South Carolina in 1827, migrated to the Florida frontier with her husband Thomas Haile in 1854. As was the case with many women in those days, Serena bore many children over her reproductive years, 15 to be exact. I suspected that perhaps Serena might have carried a copy … More “Railroad Cake”, an Historic Recipe from Haile Homestead, and Sarah Rutledge Takes a Back Seat
I stood in front of her, the dim buzzing of children’s voices fading behind me. Her glowing face stared out at me, a wisp of a smile on her perfect lips, a vast verdant landscape stretching out behind her. Leaning close to the tiny sign to the right of the painting, I read “Mrs. Davies … More The Threads of Time, or, Who is that Woman in the Painting?
Good morning to everyone. Hurricane Irma came knocking on my door on Monday, September 11, 2017. Her gusty breath took down a kingly live oak in my neighbor’s yard and threatened to rip up my back fence. Some of my fellow citizens still wade thigh-high in the muddy alligator- and snake-infested water of Newnan’s Lake. … More Weather, Weather, Weather
