“Is that a sheep-a-doodle?” The question came from an older gentleman, kindness behind his eyes. In past seasons of life, had I been asked such…
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Author: Candace Echols
Notes from the second row: The grit n’ poetry of Grizzlies basketball
The Grizzlies season may be over, but the poetry will go on By Candace Echols People prioritize things. My husband and I love a good…
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Mercy
By Candace Echols Mercy was there in those eggs and that bacon when Grandma used tried-and-true skills to awaken. Mercy was Saturday sheets on my…
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Weary we all may be. Try a little summer-ing
By Candace Echols The British use the word “summer” as a verb. ‘Round about this time of year, British women might ask their friends where…
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The arts, communing with the human soul
“For me, art is a way of communicating. It’s like having a good conversation.” ~Beth Winterburn Feature photo by Beth Winterburn By Candace Echols Yesterday,…
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Y’all, there’s nothin’ like ‘Y’all’
By Candace Echols My daughter has recently started saying “you guys” to her father and me. I’m not ashamed to tell you that we correct…
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Mountainous inspiration from a pint-sized place
By Candace Echols In one sentence—that’s all she could fit between two sobs—my little girl melted a lifetime of struggle into just a few words. …
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A Christian Responds to an Atheist on Good Friday
By Candace Echols It’s Easter weekend, and I’m a Christian. Typing that statement still fills me with angst. Not because of Christ, no, but because of…
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A soul fed by basketball, from Trezevant to Britain to the Grizz
By Candace Echols In my former life, I played a little semi-professional basketball in Britain. I know. It’s as shocking to me now as it…
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Today I need good
By Candace Echols I am so tired, So tired of the tough, So tired of reading about all the world’s stuff. Today I need good, I…
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