FebruaryErin Hillmail@bradfordvillebugle.com February has always been my favorite month of the year. It is short, but it is full. Full of meaning, memories and small signs that something new is beginning.One of my favorite memories from childhood is celebrating Black History Month. It was not just something marked on a calendar. It was an integral…
Slim Randles I don’t mind Boots. He just curls up quietly against my belly and stays put. But sleeping with Desdemona can be a bit unnerving. She snores. Sometimes she gets little bad dreams and scratches me, too. But hey, I get to come in out of the cold and sleep with Aunt Ada’s cats…
Life full of angelsJudy Conlin I resolved not to be a whiner in 2026, and, by golly, I am not going to whine. Anything you read in my columns is reporting on happenings in my life. It may resemble whining, but it is not. It is simply accurate reporting.It is true that I am not…
Hope…like a muscle Nancy Kennedy At a recent one-year follow-up doctor’s visit, the first thing my doctor said to me was, “You look like you feel good.”“Yes, I do feel good!” I said.She asked what had changed. The last time she saw me, she was putting a scope down my throat and into my stomach.That…
Zoning approvals can cause a domino-effect for disaster when public safety is overlooked and development quickly pushes forward . Patricia Smith Across North Florida, propane storage and distribution facilities are expanding rapidly in rural and semi-rural areas, prompting safety experts to raise concerns. While economic development and energy demand are driving growth, the placement of…
When WWJD isn’t enoughNancy Kennedy Years ago, a woman called me with an idea for my column.She was discouraged by all the turmoil in the nation — things haven’t changed much, have they? — and suggested we should all start wearing WWJD bracelets again.Back in the 1990s, WWJD (“What Would Jesus Do?”) was trendy among…
Slim Randles Now before you can sneak away, here comes that pharaoh of the feed-store, that baron of the bunkhouse, that titan of the tack room…Windy Wilson. Well, t’other day I meandurated around town until I crept into Sarah’s bookstore. You know the one. Has that sign on them bookshelves says “Love and other Fiction.”…
If you’re not Betty CrockerJudy Conlin I invited a couple of friends over this week for coffee and conversation. Being of Italian descent, I , of course, wanted to feed them. Not being Betty Crocker, my culinary and baking accomplishments are pretty iffy. On top of that, I never want to make something I have…
King’s dream was never finished George Cassidy Payne On a cold January morning, a small group of visitors walks through a National Park, expecting to honor Martin Luther King Jr.’s legacy. The gates are open, but the celebration is absent—no banners, no programs, no recognition. Juneteenth, too, has vanished from the federal calendar. Last year,…
Slim Randles “Boys, I gotta tell you,” said our old pal Windy Wilson, “This cold transmits me reversely to the winter of ’47. Cold? It thicklicated your blood so much you could hardly walk. You remember it, Doc? Ol’ Miller at the dairy had to ignitiolize a fire under the milk separator to liquinate it….
