May this never happen to you. It just happened to us—someone overstayed their welcome as our guest (by every day they were here). So I sage smudged like crazy yesterday as soon as they were gone, laundered their bedding and... Read More

My mother’s father, Clarence Twitty, ran a nightly poker game in the hill country of Alabama at a gas station near the Mississippi line. My grandfather fed his family by being a farmer by day, with the help of my... Read More