Category: photography

  • a day at the farm off backswamp road


    Pretty and I love nothing more than taking our dogs for unleashed adventures, and the farm off Backswamp Road in Hopkins, South Carolina has always been one of our favorite stomping grounds. The farm owned by our good friends Dick and Curtis has a lovely old  house that’s tucked off the country road that leads us there from Columbia. Their home has been the site of countless fundraisers for the LGBTQ community and other local charities over the past 30 years because its owners are generous, ready to share their southern hospitality for a good cause or just a dinner for a few friends.

    But it is the acreage surrounding the home that has been a favorite spot for our dogs to run until their tongues hang out with joy and weariness. So in October of 2014 Pretty and I took our three dogs, The Red Man (rescued Welsh terrier), Chelsea the tennis ball chaser (black lab), and Spike the squirrel chaser (yellow lab/ shepherd mix) out to the farm for an afternoon romp. The day was one of those days you can forgive South Carolina its blistering summer heat for the perfect weather she gives us in autumn.

    I hope you enjoy these images as you envision three city dogs who must be leashed on their walks in their neighborhoods as they experience the freedom of the farm.

    Pretty talking to Dick – Chelsea curious about conversation

    the pool cover entertained all afternoon

    Red and Spike busy exploring – Spike has always been a follower

    Red would rather explore by himself

    what do labs love? WATER!!

    run, run, run!

    who says I can’t play?

    Pretty and her cell phone

    the old Dodge Dakota – faithful to the end of its second engine

    loading up and saying goodbye

    we had the best time – thank you, Dick, for inviting us!

    This day is one of my favorite memories. Red and Chelsea lived until the beginning of 2016, but they both had cancer and their last year of 2015 was a tough one for all of us. Spike continues to live on with us today and now has Charly around to torment him. That’s ok – he didn’t like being an only dog.

    We still love to visit the farm, but I haven’t been able to go as often as I would like.  We’re grateful for the standing invitation. Hopefully after this second knee surgery at the end of August, I might be able to make another visit this October. Fingers crossed.

    Stay tuned.

  • Happy Birthday to our own millenials!


    Number One Son and Pretty Too

    This week Pretty and I had dinner with our Number One Son (Drew) and his wife Pretty Too (Caroline) to begin the celebration of their August birthdays. They are our very own Millenials and we love them dearly.

    This picture was taken recently by a friend of theirs – they are all smiles because next year they hope to be holding one Ella Elisabeth James, their daughter who is expected in October.

    Pretty and I are all smiles, too! Our children and grandchildren are our hope for not only our family but also our country. May the promises of America become a reality in their lifetimes.

    Stay tuned.

     

     

     

  • saltgrass tales (by GP Morris)


    GP Morris is the son of my father’s brother Ray. He is a graduate of the University of Texas in Austin. He has lived in or around Houston, Texas all of his life but has a son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter living in Seattle, Washington;  a daughter, son-in-law and another granddaughter live in Tyler, Texas.  He recently began a journal of stories for his grandchildren and sent several to me. This is my favorite to date.

    milky way
    Lying on my back, I could see him through the slats.
    He was doing the same. A smile on his face.
    It was bright inside and out. He got up and
    grabbed the top rail with both hands. He rocked
    back ’n forth. He was laughing.
    He bent down and picked up his bottle. Holdin’ it
    above his head…rockin’ on his feet. Something was
    about to happen. I quickly drug my bottle to the far
    corner and started drinkin’.
    His crib was four feet away. He flung his bottle
    across the room. It clipped the top rail of my crib,
    spun and shattered. He was still laughing.
    My mouth clenched a nipple attached to 1/2 a
    bottle. Milky shards of glass strewn about my crib.
    Hot and sticky…all shapes and sizes. Sparkly wet in
    the sunlight I put one in my mouth.
    At that moment she opened the door. She calmly
    took the glass from my mouth, gently inspected my
    mouth and said, “No blood”. In one motion she
    scooped me up, held me close and quietly sobbed.
    The salt of her tears mixed with the milk on my
    face. She turned around. He was crying.
    She picked him up and we were three. She did not
    put us down for an hour.

    Gene and his twin brother Dean surrounded by their Morris cousins

    Stay tuned.

  • nobody says it better than Serena


    This past Tuesday night I spoke at Chris Maw’s monthly social Words and Wine which brings authors and readers together in an informal setting for food, wine, and friendly interaction. My thanks to a friend of many moons, Fred Quattlebaum of Modern Family Asset Management, for sponsoring the event and to musicians Marty Lopez and Julien Kaprino for providing great entertainment. I was invited to talk about my newest book, Four Ticket Ride, but whenever I speak about my writing, my thoughts turn to truth and equality.

    I read while…

     

    …Pretty’s smile sells books!

    At her press conference this past Saturday following her loss in the finals at Wimbledon, Serena Williams was questioned about why she lost. Although she tried to say her opponent played a brilliant match, the members of the press wouldn’t let it go. They asked her if she thought her lack of match play in 2019 had hurt her, whether her role as a mother took too much time away from her tennis, and finally someone said they heard Billie Jean King wondered if she spent too much time supporting equal rights or other political issues.

    Serena’s quick response to that question was “The day I stop supporting equality is the day I die.” I can identify with her answer because I’d like to believe my actions to support equality and social justice are two of the dominant forces of my life.

    My first understanding of how it teels to be treated as a second class person came at an early age and became the impetus for my lifetime support of equality, too. My dad gave me the vision of looking at the whole world as my territory. Nothing should be impossible if I set goals and then worked hard to achieve them.  There were no limits, according to him. When I entered the work force at the age of 21 in 1967, I learned very quickly that there were, indeed, limits.

    Limits were imposed by powerful men in positions of leadership in the places I worked from Houston, Texas to Seattle, Washington to Columbia, South Carolina – men with tanned skins and silver hair who sat behind large impressive oak desks, men who saw me despite my impeccable credentials as lesser than my co-workers whose singular good fortune was that their gender and the color of their skin made them superior to me in the eyes of my bosses.

    It was a rude awakening for me to find out that my dad had been wrong. But that rude awakening changed my life as I took part in the battleground for ratification of the equal rights amendment here in South Carolina in the 1970s, my involvement in the civil rights movement in Columbia in the 1980s and eventually coming to the most passionate cause of my life: the LGBTQ movement for equality in the 1990s. I want to be able to say with Serena that the day I stop supporting equality is the day I die.

    For me, writing has been my platform for supporting equal rights during the past 13 years. For ten of those years, I have had the most fun as a blogger on my wordpress blog I’ll Call It Like I See It. When I finish a blog, usually after many re-writes, all I have to do is click on the word publish and my words fly through cyberspace to readers who either choose to follow me or randomly read my posts whenever a topic interests them. One observation I’ve made about my readers is that you all are far more interested in Pretty than you are in my political commentaries.

    I saw a segment about the author, vlogger and you tube super star John Green on Sixty Minutes this past Sunday night. John Green, the author of the Fault in our Stars and a ton of other titles has a Twitter following of more than 5 million. My blog, I’ll Call it Like I see It, on the other hand, has 1,700 followers. Thank goodness my daddy also offered me the good advice of never comparing myself to others. Some people will be better off and some people will not, but that’s not how we are measured.  In spite of that advice, I will do a small comparison.

    I am thrilled that in the first 6 months of 2019, I’ve reached people in more than 60 countries from Argentina to Vietnam through 36 posts with nearly 5,000 hits. My top five countries for followers are the US, the UK, India, Canada and France. Small potatoes to John Green, but quite an amazing audience for a little girl from deep in the piney woods of Grimes County, Texas who grew up in a time where her family’s only communication device was a two party telephone line that her grandmother on her daddy’s side used for spying on her neighbors.

    Truth telling is a lost art.  Honesty is no longer a virtue nor is it admired by everyone we come in contact with.  Nonfiction writing lacks the pop and sizzle of fiction, although I like to think sometimes it’s a close second.

    One of my favorite scenes in the movie Cat on a Hot Tin Roof is the scene where the tortured son Brick played by Paul Newman discussed his problems with his father Big Daddy played by Burl Ives. Brick blamed his alcoholism on mendacity which he claimed affected everything in the universe but especially the family he came from.  Big Daddy wasn’t so sure about that claim, but I have to say Brick just might have been on to something powerful. I was so impressed with this idea that I devoted a chapter I call Human Frailty and Mendacity in my latest book Four Ticket Ride to the concept.

    Ideas for writing come to me in random places, but what I can promise you is that I try to bring truth telling to every piece I write.

    Stay tuned.

    P.S. Thanks so much to everyone who bought my books from Pretty Tuesday night – we almost sold out! I loved meeting you all and look forward to seeing you again in November.

    P.S.P.S. Thanks to our friend Saskia for taking pictures.

     

     

     

  • one woman’s bucket list is another woman’s good life


    me and my best friend Charly enjoy Pretty’s bucket list

    Pretty’ s bucket list got one wish lighter this summer with the nearly completed screened in porch in our backyard. We had a screened porch with a wonderful squeaky wooden swing in the first house we bought and lived in together. During the first nine years of our marriage we were way too busy for swinging though.

    Fast forward ten years, another four houses, and now too tired for swinging we are one door short of another screened in porch. Pretty is ecstatic to have her pool and porch waiting for her whenever she takes tiny amounts of time away from managing her antique empire to enjoy them.

    I, on the other hand, have only the Evil PT sessions to interrupt my porch sitting and playing in the cool pool this summer. Poor me.

    I thought about making a bucket list of my own but then decided why bother when Pretty’s list is working fine for me.

    Charly advises when the heat gets to be too much,  head for the porch

    Stay tuned and stay cool.