Recently a friend of mine said people act like getting COVID-19 is the equivalent to getting an STD.
I was watching the live broadcast of the governor when my friend messaged me saying the protestors in D.C. had made their way past the barricades and into the Capitol.
I’ve never been one to make new year’s resolutions. You likely won’t hear me talking about losing weight, getting more active or eating healthier — even though I’m sure that’s something I need to do.
As we near the end of 2021, I can’t help but reflect on this tumultuous year.
This year for Christmas I won’t be able to see everyone that I’d like to, but I’m grateful that I’m able to say they’re still only a phone call away.
Vaccines are on the way.
Recently my family has been getting into the holiday spirit by putting up the Christmas tree, wrapping presents, getting Christmas cookies to decorate, riding to see Christmas lights and watching Christmas classics as well as some newer Christmas movies.
Yesterday was Giving Tuesday, the day where individuals are encouraged to give back on the day following the weekend shopping extravaganza that includes Black Friday, Small Business Saturday and Cyber Monday.
At Bethel Baptist Church on Sunday, the Rev. Kevin Moen read from Psalm 100 that says, “Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks to him and praise his name. For the Lord is good and his love endures forever; his faithfulness continues through all generations.”
One step forward, two steps back.
On the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month an armistice was signed in Compiegne, France to cease fighting in World War I between the Allied nations and Germany.
The other night I watched a captivating video of a teacher reaching out to her school board in another area about the struggles of teachers.
We’re six days away from Election Day, and the last time I checked with the local registrar, a fourth of county voters had already chosen to vote early or absentee in the upcoming General Election.
Monday morning I found myself having a case of the Monday blues with a 2-year-old who didn’t want to get ready, fog for as far as I could see when driving and a growing checklist greeting me at work that seemed never-ending.
It’s 17 days until Halloween, 20 days until Election Day, 28 days until Veterans Day, 43 days until Thanksgiving and 72 days until Christmas.
Sometimes we have to pay attention to life’s little reminders.
I’ve always thought it would be nice to know more about my family tree.
Over the weekend I was able to use an antique that many of our youth may be unfamiliar with, a VCR.
As I continue to click the keyboard in my acrylic nails, I can’t help but wonder how women who type in their profession maintain a manicure.
Tragedies have struck our area as three families (that I know of) are dealing with horrific moments that no one wants for anyone else.
If you knew former Gazette-Virginian news, sports and all-around science fiction knowing reporter Doug Ford, then you knew of his beloved cat Whiskers.
A coworker cracked a joke this morning about what a turbulent year it has been for me to become editor.
I received a COVID-19 test, and for me, it was as horrible as I could imagine.
I would hate to be in Superintendent Dr. Mark Lineburg’s position these days.
“Man invented language to satisfy his deep need to complain,” is a quote by famed comedian, actress and writer Lily Tomlin, and it’s one I’ll have to agree with.
Sometimes it’s nice just to think back, and being that July 4 weekend is coming up, I can’t help but think of all the ways we’ve celebrated over the years.
It’s hard to take a stance, stick to that stance and make it known.
I remember these days like it was yesterday.
This whole year can be summed up with one sentence for me: what a time to be alive.
Silence is deafening.
Eleven years. That’s how many years it’s been since Diane Brown and her family have seen her sister Hattie Gertrude Brown.
There’s an election on Tuesday.
With Mother’s Day approaching, I’ve done my usual brainstorming of ways to show my mother how much I appreciate her, and I came across this poem titled, “Now that I’m a mother.” Author unknown.
Sometimes I feel like I’m beating a dead horse with COVID-19 this and the coronavirus that.
Stigma, “a mark of disgrace associated with a particular circumstance, quality, or person,” as Oxford Dictionary defines it has been attached to several diseases, socioeconomic status and more over the years — COVID-19 or the coronavirus is no different.
Easter is going to look a little different this year.
Can someone stand in front of a podium on national television and say, “April Fools! Gotcha, Americans. Go back to your regular daily live.”
“Uncharted territory.”
I think a lot people would agree that child’s birthday parties have gotten out of hand.
As everyone sits around their Christmas tree, menorah, kinara or any other holiday symbol with their family this year, keep in mind what’s important – family.
So much can change in a year and has.
Thanksgiving is tomorrow, a time to look at your life and see what all you have to be thankful for.
Don’t worry. That big, bright star in the sky is the sun.
This “new” policy regarding no recording at Halifax County Public Schools isn’t new at all.
“Don’t work for recognition but do work worthy of recognition,” is advice from American author H. Jackson Brown Jr. that we could all take.
The other day as my friend pumped her gas, I heard from inside the car a noise I had become familiar with “gas station TV,” one of the many screens that we constantly have in our face.
Keaton Jones may be a household name at this point, a pseudo celebrity if you will, the latest every day kid to have his five minutes of fame in the spotlight.
We’ve all seen the photos and the jokes of the swarms of people who flood into stores to get that one toy on sale for $9.99 on Black Friday.
More often than ever I’ve seen my work resurface on websites, in brochures and in other areas.
I understand that print journalism and broadcast journalism are two completely different ball games, but with Hurricane Harvey, Hurricane Irma and Hurricane Jose in full force as this column is being written, I can’t help but question the tactics of some broadcast journalists.
This past Saturday was the two-year anniversary of the tragic event that took the lives of two young, vibrant individuals, news reporter Alison Parker and video journalist Adam Ward of WDBJ7.
