Sallie Satterthwaite's blog

Ice storm

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Someone ought to publish recipes that ice-constrained menus go into effect. What do you do with so much milk and bread?
We didn’t shop for a week and survived, so far as I know. Once the initial surprise snowstorm has snowed itself out and only then does hunger strike little boys who are drenched and red-cheeked, and the snowstorm itself history. Read More»

Hail the BBC

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It takes a little time to build up a “must-watch” television listing strong enough to make me say, “I’m sorry, we have plans for that evening.”
Smile, enigmatically.
When my girls were very young, they were allowed to watch television or go to movies only after we had vetted the material and deemed it acceptable for our little dears’ developing taste. They were good about it. “Because I say so” was a reason they didn’t often challenge. Read More»

Superman and Hometown Newspapers

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These short stories really have nothing in common except they are being published on the same day…
I don’t remember what aroused my interest in Superman a few weeks ago. Was looking for something else and lost track of time – when, “Look! Up in the sky!” There he was, on my laptop screen. No, actually it was a TV movie I had never watched. So I did, and found it winsome. Read More»

Whatever happened to...?

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This column originally ran in April, 1996.

Not many of today’s Peachtree City residents remember a time when we did not have a real police department. Our earliest policing came from the Sheriff’s Office -- the county supplied a car and support; local businesses paid for a deputy.
Granted, he didn’t have much to do, but people felt good knowing he was out there.

Ralph Jones was mayor and Chip Conner on city council when the city began developing its own department, and by the time Chip became mayor, in 1970, we were well on our way. Read More»

What goes around...

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This is based on a reminiscence made at New Year’s Day 1984 and demonstrates that – as usual -- “What goes around comes around….”
Picture, for a moment, your school days' diagram of the earth orbiting the sun, and note that its path has no milestones, no square marked "Go" that signals the beginning of a new year.

It was humankind, not God, that divided the endless ellipse into months and years with beginnings and ends, to account for the apparent rebirth of the sun.
Even that is arbitrary. Read More»

New Years, 2014

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My late friend and beloved editor Dave Hamrick summed up a writer’s puzzlement thus paraphrased):
“I can write my heart out with blood, sweat and tears, and dread to come in to work on Wednesday morning. But then I grab some notes and cobble something together long after deadline, just to get it in, and someone will tell me (through tears) that the column packed such a powerful message, it changed her life.” Read More»

Irony abounds

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Dave and I have always thought we were the sole lovers of Christmas fruitcake on the planet. Every year, we have become used to seeing stacks of the little ruby-studded fruitcake that made Claxton, Georgia, a household name.

Fruitcake seems perfect for that not-too-pricey last-minute Christmas gift. After all, they keep virtually forever, especially when soaked in rum, and the fact that you can give them away secures their role as the answer to the everlasting question, “What should we give the mailman? Or the kids’ piano teacher? A next door neighbor? A fellow employee?” Read More»

Griz at Christmastime 2013

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Not so very long ago, the following conversation took place between – oh, you figure that out. I’m too embarrassed….

Griz: Hey! Watch out who you’re tossing. You almost missed the chair.
Sallie: I’m sorry. I gotta get the bed made. Got a million things to do and time’s running out.

G: Yeah, yeah, I know. We go through this every year. You get into such a snit. What’s the big deal anyway? Christmas comes the same day every year, and nothing you do is going to change that. Read More»

What? Me Worry?

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This column originally appeared in the Jan. 8, 1996 Citizen.
Any other time, we'd watch news accounts of horrific weather like that in the Pacific Northwest last week, and shake our heads. "Why would people want to live in that kind of climate?" we'd ask each other, reveling in balmy Georgia.
Any other time, we'd see pictures of cars stalled along a far-off Interstate and wonder why these fools had got themselves into a situation where they had to abandon their most expensive possession to struggle on foot to shelter. Read More»

Time to care

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Winter’s soul-chilling winds have already staked their claim on the calendar, and any balmy respite we may enjoy from now until, oh, say March, will be illusory at best,
Time to load up on crisp red apples from the Georgia hills. Time to finish the wood stacked since last summer, time to move it onto the porch on its dry fibers ready to burst into warmth and brightness on a rain-dark night.

Time to gather family close again, to touch each others’ hands, reminding us of old bonds and new dreams. Time to celebrate life. Read More»