Ronda Rich's blog

How to explain ‘bush hog’

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Sometimes it takes a well-meaning Yankee to put me in my place. One who will remind me that all things Southern are, by no means, universal. That some things need to be explained.

Like bush hogging.

Now, where I come from – the rural South – the term “bush hogging” is plopped down comfortably in the middle of our everyday language and is used as commonly as “eating” “sleeping” or “breathing.”

To the rural Southerner who is blessed enough to have more than a couple of acres on which to reside, bush hogging is as necessary as eating, sleeping or breathing. Read More»

Simple days, but great days

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My friend, Michelle, emailed me one day after we had run into each other at a trunk showing of new clothes where we shared enthusiasm over the pretty fashions and helped each other decide what we should buy or shouldn’t.

She explained that she left the show, had lunch with friends, picked her little boy up at school who had scratched his arm but not too badly, returned home to find that their new, curious puppy had slept the entire time, not making one bit of a mess and that her husband had come home early from work. She ended by saying, “What a great day!”

I loved that. Read More»

Where love was found

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When the newspaper reporter called to set up an interview for the story she was writing on my newest book, she said, “We need to shoot a photo, too. Do you have any suggestions for a good location?”

As a matter of fact, I did. Since the newspaper was located in the county where Mama had first laid eyes on Daddy and since that place was a church and since the new book was on faith, it seemed like the perfect place. Read More»

When kids leave the nest . . .

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Lately, a couple of girlfriends have been lamenting the upcoming going of their children. Both will see their oldest graduate from high school shortly and edge closer to a life independent of Mama.

There have been several lunches and many more phone calls when one or the other has become weepy and said, “I know it’s going to be okay but it’s so hard. I can’t imagine life without my baby at home.”

Both of the children are choosing colleges away from home and one has even chosen to go clear across the country to a university in California. Read More»

Why aren’t you married?

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It was one of those crowded events a while back that I didn’t want to attend. But courtesy and obligation dictated that I put my wants aside and be a big girl about it all. So, I put on a pretty dress, a gorgeous pair of high heels and plunged in. Read More»

Back in 1937 . . .

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When she talked about those tribulations back in 1937, her feeble voice crackled with both age and emotion. With over 70 years separating then from now, the grief still lingered but wisdom had covered it like moss on a riverbank. Read More»

Keepsakes live long in family Bible

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At a cafe in Biloxi, Miss., friends and I were chatting over coffee when we were joined by a man who is a business associate of one of my friends who was sitting at the table.

He pulled up a chair, plopped down and launched fast-paced into conversation. He was straight-forward, minced no words and softened no opinion.

He is a Yankee.

“Damn Yankee,” he corrected me. “That’s what I am.” His blue eyes locked mine with a steely look that bored deeply. “Do you know the difference between a plain Yankee and a damn Yankee?”

I nodded and smiled. “You’ve come South to stay.” Read More»

Work & the renowned adventurer

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Poet, my friend who reigns supremely in the Mississippi Delta, has few complaints, so when he voiced one the other day, I was not only surprised, I was astounded. Particularly when I heard what was troubling him.

While there are those who have questioned Poet’s serious commitment to a life of hard work – I have on occasion been one of those – he has stepped up to a commitment to public service. The fine folks in his small town have elected him to various and sundry positions over the years until they saw fit to make him ruler of all. He is now the mayor. Read More»

Southern men & new clothes for Easter

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Years ago, before fuel conservation became popular and trendy, I was a forerunner to saving gas by combining errands. When I go into town, I spend several hours doing errands that I have been waiting to do. It saves both gas and time.

One of those combination trips always includes the beauty shop and having my car serviced simultaneously. The other day, I stopped in to Harrison’s where those folks who have become good friends, take good care of both me and my car.

“Can I get a ride to the beauty shop?” I asked Roger, while several other customers milled around. Read More»

The moral of the story

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During those gray, cloud-filled days, figuratively and literally, I wasn’t exactly imprisoned but two years of consented captivity in the unfamiliar North was one of the greatest burdens my Southern soul has ever carried.

In those troubled days, there was little relief, it seemed. From early November until late March, the sun seldom smiled, the wind always chilled and the snow often fell. Read More»

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