My late mother, an accomplished pianist named JoAnn Derden, used to perform double-piano concerts with her sister, who insisted that the music — intricate, demanding classics — be memorized. Mom begrudgingly obliged. When those stressful days ended, Mom enjoyed improvising and playing two-piano music with me — no memorization…
We're Not in Kansas Anymore - a Column by Helen Baldwin
It’s officially fall in the U.S.! The weather here in the North Carolina mountains has been stupendous. I could almost hear our assorted fans breathe a collective sigh of relief when we finally turned them off at times and even closed some windows at night to keep from rousing the…
I spent a small fortune on cute books for the kindergarteners I taught at Brockman School, then a self-contained public school in Columbia, South Carolina. The students, many with severe disabilities, delighted in hearing the animated voices of the stories I read to them. My own children, Matthew and…
Sunday afternoon’s dreary skies and light rain tempted me mightily to crawl onto the recliner and drift right off. I doubt I could’ve counted to 10 before unconscious bliss took over — momentarily, anyway. It was also a dreary day for our older dog, Maple, a boxer whose mobility virtually…
For years, slogans with the “F-bomb” (for a certain expletive) have expressed utter contempt for catastrophic diseases, social injustices, or whatever else riles folks up. The first such campaign I remember was about cancer. I certainly didn’t disagree with the desire to eliminate the ravages of the disease, but as…
When I was growing up in Fort Worth, Texas, our family vacations were precious getaways. Time and money constraints kept us primarily in Texas, but there was plenty to do. During one summer trip to south Texas, we walked across the border to Mexico on a dreadfully sweltering August day.
Unlike most days when I draft my column, I had this one all figured out. Recent brain sparks of potential topics provided me with such confidence. I plopped down at the computer earlier than usual on Sunday to tend to a few odds and ends before getting down to the…
Somehow we’re fast approaching June’s final days! As summer continues, plenty of memories dance in my head. Particularly eventful, to put it mildly, was 1997. Our summer that year commenced in mid-May, when our third baby, Jeffrey, arrived two weeks ahead of schedule. As my volunteering stints in the elementary…
Given the hair-raising books and movies I favored growing up, you’d think I’d have uttered a scream at some point. Genuine screams, however, were reserved for roller coasters until my husband, Randy, became a football coach. Then I morphed into a maniac. Granted, I considered my high-decibel screams warranted because…
I celebrated a birthday recently, kicking off the final year of my 60s in memorable fashion. As I got ready at home to join our grandson, James, for a Mother’s Day breakfast in his class at school, I opened the bathroom door. Sprawled out over the entire path was Maple,…
