Gianetta Palmer

Some of my fondest memories around the holidays occurred on Christmas Eve. It wasn’t the actual event that was so much fun but the preparations up to that special day. My Dad would always help in the decorating of the living room. There are certain decorations that had to go in a specific spot each year. We always had red and green crepe paper chains that ran across the ceiling of the living room. We would take branches from the bottom of the Christmas tree and place them on the mantel above the fireplace. We had a fabulously colored gold and shiny tinsel looking thing that hung from one of the doorways. My job on Christmas Eve was to always set out the different food-laden bowls in the living room. We always had a bowl with various nuts, mainly walnuts. We had a specific bowl for the fruit, mainly navel oranges that we ordered from the FFA each year. And you can’t forget about the cheese plate. (Which was my favorite.) Both sets of my grandparents would come to my house each y

Check out what I've been doing: http://reflectionsonamiddle-agedfatwoman.blogspot.com/2016/09/one-hundred-days-of-writing100-days_8.html

Hello friends! Here's what I've been up to lately: Last November I participated in National Novel Writing Month where the goal during the month is to write a complete novel consisting of at least 50,000 words. There are various ways to go about accomplishing the task—such as writing the words “very tough to do” about 12,500 times.  Or “Am I crazy for attempting this during the Holidays?” about 4500 times could probably work too. Some may have chosen that path, but not me—I chose a simpler plan: I divided 50K words by 30 (days in November) and came up with a more manageable (I thought) number of 1667. National Novel Writing Month or NaNoWriMo as it is apt to be called is a big deal. There are national groups, state groups, county groups, city groups and the group that I belonged to was called the Teal Deers or something like that. They meet regularly at the local Starbucks and talk about who knows what. I’ve never been to an actual meeting (although I have thou

Well, I'm back from another trip north of the sweet tea line--that's the Ohio/Kentucky border for those of you that are new to the middle-aged fat woman gang and a lot happened. And when I mean a lot. I mean A Lot! But that's the next post or perhaps the next one after that. I went to Dayton, Ohio for the Erma Bombeck Writer's Workshop and somehow they let me in for the third time. (I must be paying all the right people.) I hung out with Gina, Judy, Betsy (she's a Bombeck), Cathryn, Cabin Girl, Lori, Gail, Kate, Linda, Mindy, Linda, Sarah, Teri, Patricia, Nancy, Vikki, Sherry, DC, Chrissy, Allia, Kim, Jane, Stephanie, Elly, Lou, Anna, Tami, Mary, Kathryn, Maggie, Joanne, Kristi, Susanne, Leighann, Kim & her daughter, Lois, Lisa, Beth, Denise, Jen, Ann, Diane, Shawna, Rachel, Judith, Suzette, Lela, Abbie, Jill, Jim, Elaine, Marcia, Ann, Janine, Rae Jean, Norm, Ginger, Angela, Leslie, Kelly, David, Jo, Anne, Tracy, Amy, Wanda, Rose, Dawn, Pam, Maureen,

For the first time in my life I have something other than basic cable. I like a few channels not provided by the local cable company on basic cable like AHC or Military Channel, NFL Network, DIY Network and Cooking Channel to name a few. My telephone company in conjunction (cahoots) with DISH Network kept offering me a deal that sounded too good to be true. I'm slow to change things that don't really need changing. I've been a customer for over 20 years and the only thing that ever changed on my cable was my bill: it kept going up. But this year, now that I'm back from a six-week holiday break and a two-week-long stomach ache, I'm shaking things up. The deal offered was so good it took six months of weekly conversations with the same customer service rep before I was (somewhat) convinced that they weren't going to pull a switcheroo and charge me a fee every time I turn on the television. They didn't ask for a credit card number up front, they didn't

The travelers sat together at the long table and looked quietly at the plates being served. No biscuits. No grits. And no gravy. We all looked at each other; this wasn't something we were accustomed to. Mom asked the one question we all were thinking. "You got any sweet tea?" It was day eight of our trip up the East Coast and our taste buds were starting to show signs of withdrawal. Don't get me wrong, most of the food that we'd eaten was exceptional, save for that one order of belly clams I was encouraged to try on Martha's Vineyard. I like clams; or more accurately, I like clams that have been stripped of their bellies--something I like to call clam strips. The withdrawal I'm speaking of isn't one that every American can understand. Only those living below the sweet tea line know that it's the icy cold and delectably sweet beverage that's a staple in nearly every southern household. We drink our sweet tea for breakfast, lunch