Today, class, we are going to talk about “double negatives,” because how could I not not do it?

Here are the books currently stacked on my nightstand:

A friend and her 9-year-old daughter drove down to visit one recent weekend. I got snookered into playing Monopoly with young Miss C.

My daughter is working as a camp counselor this summer, and she asked us to send her letters. Not texts. Not emails. Actual letters.

I was in high school when I first started raiding my father’s closet.

Penny penny penny penny penny …

“Rattlesnake plunges from tree into kayak” — The State, May 21, 2018

I have a boring name. “Lisa” was the most popular baby name the year I was born. I was never the only Lisa in my class.

The hardest workout I get is figuring out ways to avoid working out.

I have many regrets in my life, but right now one of the biggest is that I didn’t fill out my dog bracket.

Everybody always says school is harder than when we were kids. Just for fun, I tested that theory. I tried to do my some of son’s high school homework.

Like every other red-blooded American, I got an Instant Pot for Christmas. The Instant Pot — a new-fashioned pressure cooker — was last year’s hot toy for grownups.

Fortunately, my husband and I were able to schedule a last-minute getaway last month to Texas, to see old friends and eat barbecue made from beef.

I’ve been watching the Winter Olympics this week and feeling inadequate.

How long should leftovers be kept in the refrigerator?

Y’all, I can’t even. The New York Times has printed the word … I can’t even say it. Rhymes with “pitmole.” The closest I can come to saying that word in print is “s—hole.”

On the first day of December, I started off the morning at Anniston High School with a performance of “The Nutcracker” ballet for area schoolkids. Every year, Knox Concert Series invites hundreds of third-graders to see the ballet for free.

Gather around the holiday table, children, and let me tell you the tale of the royal hunt ...

Among my many fond memories of Thanksgivings past are my mother’s cornbread dressing, my aunt’s monkey bread, my cousins and I fighting over the wishbone, and the panicked look in my eyes if I was ever asked to say grace.

’Twas five days before Halloween, when what should arrive?

The Halloween costume industry crossed a line this year, coming up with something so offensive that it had to be pulled from stores.

The Magnolia, 1969

Why are you standing in front of the refrigerator?