Ronda Rich's blog

Daddy’s little book

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I never took my daddy for the sentimental kind. And in this assessment, I was not alone. He was a man’s man with a generous heart and compassionate spirit but sentiment seemed to have no place in his life.

I suppose it’s because his young life had been so hard, so downright sorrowful that he closed his heart and mind to looking back.

For that’s what we sentimental people do – we look back. We find the tender parts of the past that trails behind us and we hold them dear forever in our memory. We keep those times alive. Read More»

Missed chances in life

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Over lunch, Debbie and I were having a conversation about someone we knew in our youth and were wondering what had happened to him. This is what happens when lifelong friends gather – we trip back in time and memory and ponder what or who has come and gone. Read More»

Easter & Mama’s cake

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It started with Mama. All good stories and jokes in our family, including me, started with her.

Like many women, Southern ones particularly, she enjoyed reading recipes. When she died, I mined through hundreds of recipes torn from newspapers and magazines. I saved every one, organizing them, and even tried an incredibly good recipe for beef roast. Finally, after years of trying, I can make a delicious rump roast. Read More»

Pretty . . . or not

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In a conversation recently, a guy friend commented on seeing someone, saying, “She was in evening make-up.”

I’m still pondering that because I have never heard a guy – or woman for that matter – comment on “evening make-up.” That got me to thinking that I don’t have “evening make-up.” What you see at 9 a.m. with me is pretty much what you’re gonna get at 9 p.m.

Anyway, that gave me the opening to ask curiously, “When she has on evening make-up does she look better than she does normally?” I stopped for a beat. “Because she is one of the homeliest women I have ever seen.” Read More»

Ronda babysits

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If you ever hear that I have been babysitting, know this: It was an absolute act of desperation on the part of the mothers. It means there was no other option.

And it does occasionally happen.

As in the case of Nicole, who had a doctor’s appointment and called. “Are you up for a little babysitting? I won’t be gone long.”

“Gone long.” Key words here because that means “such an abbreviated time that even Ronda can handle it.” So, I agreed. Read More»

Stevie and the Hall of Fame

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The text from my friend, Stevie, popped up on my phone. “We made the Hall of Fame! Woo Hoo!!!”

I already knew. I had just read the news story announcing the next five inductees into the NASCAR Hall of Fame and knew that Stevie’s husband, Darrell Waltrip, was included. I had seen the photo from the moment of the announcement in Charlotte that showed Darrell with tears streaming down his face and Stevie laughing happily.

I replied to the text with my congratulations then re-read hers again, struck by one word: “We.” Read More»

Dixie Dew speaks . . . again

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Hello, Readers, it’s me, Dixie Dew again.

There was such an overwhelming response to the column I wrote a few months ago, that I was asked to give y’all an update.

For those of you who might be so uninformed as to not know who I am, let me fill you in. Read More»

Julia Reed & stories

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Once I was aboard a riverboat called the American Queen on which I had spent several days cruising along what I consider to be the majestic Mississippi River. I boarded in New Orleans and, along with the other passengers, crawled toward St. Louis.

It was my blessed fortune to be hired by the riverboat company to entertain its passengers with Southern storytelling.

For two scant hours of telling stories, I had both been paid and given the privilege of 10 days on the river I love best. Read More»

Claudette is so blue

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I guess it had been more than a year that I had been thinking that I wasn’t as funny as I used to be. When you make your living with witty observations and entertaining stories, this isn’t an asset you want to lose.

I fretted a bit, thinking that stress and problems were slowing the quick draw of my wit.

“You find something funny about everything,” my sister complained one day. “I can tell you the most serious problem and you’ll start grinning then come up with something funny.” Read More»

The best tellers of stories

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Out of the blue one day, I got an email from an old, beloved friend from my NASCAR days. In the days when first I met him, Jim Freeman was the public relations director at the Talladega track. That was when the publicity at all the tracks was run by men, some college educated, some not, who were amicable, back-slapping and well-liked. Read More»