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I am a member of an exclusive group of humans. Though small in number — only 15% of the world’s population are members — we have infiltrated every arena of life and learned to adapt to the maj…

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Logan was about 5 years old when he walked into the kitchen one day, loudly wailing about something.

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Every morning before high school, a collective expletive could be heard in the air above my small hometown in the 1950s and early ’60s, as teen girls twisted and shouted themselves into their nylons.

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Upon moving into our temporary home while renovating our forever home, which we have now been in since April, I boxed up some precious family photos and documents and took them to my mother an…

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The moms of our own childhoods were not much different from us, but they DID have one important tool for child rearing that we in the 21st century have dropped. And sold. And thrown away.

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I recently learned that my brother-in-law Kent has been preaching regularly at a small church in southeast Missouri.

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The carnival’s back in town

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This month marks my one-year anniversary since I started working full time at the newspaper and it’s been a whirlwind of learning, growth and trying to figure out exactly where I fit into the …

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Glossy signs were tacked to electric poles all over town each July. The carnival was coming! The dusty, burnt grass and cracked parking lots of the city park was about to turn into a wonderlan…

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It was somewhere between 2009 and 2013 and I sat in the passenger seat with neighborhood scenes going frame by frame as we drove along our street.

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As crazy as it might sound, my hobby of photography — which I enjoyed for several years — helped me to develop a weather eye.

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If you are anything like me it is not uncommon to encounter items or situations that rekindle memories that you may not have thought of for quite some time.

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A house is not a home without a junk drawer. It’s the one place everybody in your house will sooner or later find themselves rummaging through, muttering frantic words, like: “I KNOW I saw it …

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We are officially country bumpkins, but looking back I have come to understand that we were always bumpkins — we’ve just added the country part.

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Do families have a designated deliverer of bad news? In the Henley clan such a person would be my sister, Jane.

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The steering wheel brands my palm with the searing heat of the summer sun. I breathe in oven-hot air and emit steaming curses while I wait for the car's air conditioner to start blowing cool. …

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You want to know what the hardest part about being human is?

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How did you and yours fare during last week's heat wave? Hopefully you were able to find somewhere cool to stay to escape the record-setting heat that literally stretched from one end of the c…

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“Michelle’s daddy can lift a house!” My 5-year-old daughter cried giant tears. She wiped her nose with a dirty fist and glared at the back door as it slammed shut behind her. “Michelle says he…

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Pictured and captioned on Facebook was a 3-year-old standing with his arms crossed in defiance of bedtime.

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We played Bottle Cap Baseball all summer long when I was a girl; the laundromat up the street saved all the Tab, Orange Crush and Pepsi bottle caps from their machine for us. My brothers would…

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You could hear a pin drop if it weren’t for the preacher standing in front of the congregation talking about the ultimate sacrifice.

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Vacation time. Time to jump in the car and escape your three-bedroom cage of domesticity. You crave adventure and novelty. Roadside stands of oddities and billboards that beg for attention in …

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My Granny loved feeding people. Her plate would often sit cold and untouched while she buzzed around the dinner table refilling drinks and spooning gravy over potatoes (and this is why comfort…

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As I have shared in this space previously it is not uncommon to hear the sound of gunfire in the neighborhood in which I live. Last Thursday was just such a day.

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When a springtime storm rumbles toward the house at night, the first thing I do is look for my shoes. I am suddenly 8 years old; my dad’s voice punches through the darkness. His shadow is outl…

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If self-assessment can be believed, I like to think I have done a decent job of coming to grips with the fact that my days as a photographer are behind me because of the Parkinson-caused hand …

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Going to yard sales was an exciting part of my childhood. Saturdays meant meandering along rural lanes and city blocks, following signs.

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My Dad was known for an ability to spin a tale, and we cherished the mornings he stopped by for coffee and a story.

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Would those of you who enjoyed last week's hot-weather reminder that summer will be here far sooner than later, please raise your right hand.

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I have plenty to worry about. One of my ears sticks out farther than the other. I get my kids’ and grandkids’ names mixed up with long-dead relatives. If gas gets any more expensive, I will be…

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I have written about probably every stage from baby to toddler to little boy in some form, and have actually been a little perplexed by their current progression.

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It has been a few years since I began sleeping at night in my recliner which is located in the living room of the Henley hacienda.

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She was there with you, surrounding you, while you grew arms and legs and eyelids. Your heart beat in harmony with hers. Her blood was your blood; her oxygen, yours. She kept you safe and prot…

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There's something about the rain that's cleansing and refreshing when you curl up with a blanket and coffee and watch it pour outside the window.

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Forgive me for having to ask, but isn't it a protected right under the Constitution or Bill of Rights for an individual to be able to ask at least one stupid question a day without risk of per…

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The stool sits in the corner of our kitchen, where it’s been for over 30 years. It is ‘70s “shag carpeting” green. The paint is chipped here and there; black primer shows through from bumps an…

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Google is mad at me.I don't even know what I did, except that I asked directions to a place less than two blocks away.

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When I periodically pause to count the blessings upon which I have been bestowed, near the top of my list is having good neighbors. I could definitely be living in nicer areas of America's Hom…

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It’s time for spring cleaning. I know this, because I see the neighbors out there, wiping windows, sweeping stoops and just generally bustling about.