Journaling needs consistency, storage space

News and Views by Jean McCamy I have always wanted to be a journalist — the kind who keeps a journal of daily events and observations. As a little girl, I regularly added a diary to my Christmas list, and I regularly got those little books with a lock and key and space to fill a...

September brings beautiful day on the farm

by Jean McCamy In September, we always tiptoe around the edges of autumn. A few trees show a blush of red, a few leaves fall, a few mornings are cool enough for a sweater and the hummingbirds disappear one by one. Then, suddenly, there is a day when fall is really here. The air...

Sick of political ads already

Anybody who checked my mailbox these days would think I had a new best friend.  I hear from him almost every day. And these are not flimsy little messages; they are big, full-color cards or bi-folds. If I posted them on my refrigerator, I would have more pictures of him and his...

Taking a look back

In the summer of l966, I attended a writers’ workshop in Raleigh and heard a columnist for the Smithfield newspaper talk about her writing adventures. It sounded like so much fun, I came home and asked Bob and Peggy Allen at The Wake Weekly if I could write a column for them....

From poet to potter, and that’s OK

The recent flap about Gov. McCrory’s probably well-meaning, but totally clueless appointment of a new North Carolina poet laureate (who later resigned) sent me for a look back at my own skimpy collection of published poems. It’s been years since I’ve written any poetry other than...

Son’s a sight in my spectacles

by Jean McCamy As hard as it is for any of us to comprehend, I have middle-aged children, and it has turned out to be quite handy. Ever since I had cataract surgery, I’ve been able to set aside the glasses I have worn since I was nine years old. I can navigate the highways and...

Fifth Fridays bring angst

Many, many years ago I learned the little mnemonic: “Thirty days hath September, April, June and November. All the rest have 31, save February alone. To which we 28 assign, ’til Leap Year gives it 29.” With that, I have been able to keep up with the passing of time, and it has...
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An ode to the tomato days of summer

They’re back — those  gorgeous red and coral and yellow orbs of summer with the exotic names! Because my husband has never met a tomato seed or tomato plant he didn’t like, our garden is aglow with the likes of Mortgage Lifters, Cherokee Purples, Roman Candles, Tommy Toes, Green...
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The sound of fireworks not music to my ears

I realized long ago that I am missing a few of the usual girl genes. I really don’t miss the shopping gene or the pedicure gene or the spa gene or the gym gene. I hate shopping and only do it when absolutely necessary, and usually in stores small enough for me to see the front...
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My World Cup runneth over

Have you ever gone on a long trip and when you finally lie down and close your eyes, you see little white highway lines on the inside of your eyelids? Soccer balls work the same way. I have blissfully watched so many soccer games lately that I see white swirly balls whenever I...

Study justifies doodling habit

I wish Catherine Lee could have seen last week’s CBS-TV show, Sunday Morning. It may have helped my case way back in high school. Miss Lee taught science at Wake Forest High School in the 1940s and ’50s. She was what was then called “a spinster,” and she rented a room in a...
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In search of the World Cup

Most of the time, I’m perfectly happy being without cable TV. I can catch the news and weather just about any time I want it (and there’s always the computer), and we can stream all the movies and commercial-free programs we have time to watch. About the only time I get upset...