Wednesday, January 18, 2017

Where We Live

Saturday, August 9, 2014

This story is about dogs.

It is not about our four-legged, tailing-wagging puppy dogs. Nor is it about those plump, juicy hot dogs that taste so good on the grill at this time of the year. Nor is it about the dog-legged course in a golf game, and it is certainly not in reference to a description that a man might give about a woman after a few drinks at the bar.

These dogs I am referring to have to do with the sun.

Saturday, July 26, 2014

When I began college in 2002, I had decided that I wanted to major in digital communications.

It was a growing field, and the blend of English communications and the digital world intrigued me.

At the time, my father, who is avidly against computers, said he didn't understand the draw because "computers are going to be the downfall of the world."

I laughed at him in that moment, but 12 years later, his statement is coming true.

In today's world, you can't walk down the street without seeing someone glued to their smartphone or tablet.

Saturday, July 19, 2014


It's a Sunday afternoon, and our old farmhouse is filled with the laughter and chatter of young people. The aroma of homemade lasagna wafts through the air as we set the table, arranging plates, cutlery and napkins for a dozen people around our big wooden table. We put trivets out, enough to protect the finish from the heat of four large pans of the bubbling hot mixture of noodles, creamy cheese, savory meat and tangy tomato sauce.

This is no ordinary Sunday dinner.

Saturday, July 12, 2014

First came the decision to proceed with a proposal for a new elementary center.

Then came the approval to move forward with the sports stadium.

As a result, Lehighton Area School District finds itself caught in the cross hairs of the public's perception.

On one side are those who support the projects wholeheartedly.

And on the other are those who are against one or both concepts.

Even the board of school directors have found themselves at odds from a philosophical standpoint.

Saturday, July 5, 2014


I don't know Brandi Barbera, but I worry about her. I wonder what kind of a life she will live. Does she even have a chance of being a success? Theoretically, I guess, she does. I sure hope so.

Brandi is 10 years old. On Tuesday, she went missing from a foster home in Summit Hill, where she had been a resident for about three weeks.

Rescue workers searching for her were told that she was mentally challenged. Her foster father said she was combative.

Saturday, June 28, 2014


Sometimes life throws you a curve ball and sometimes it throws you 15 feet off a ladder and onto a pile of rocks.

After something like that happens, you really have no choice but to re-examine your priorities. You learn quickly what's really important, and what's maybe not quite as important as you might have thought.

A few weeks ago I got a phone call at work. My husband took a bad fall, and yes, landed on a pile of rocks, breaking five ribs, puncturing his lung and earning himself a lift to Bethlehem in a helicopter.

Saturday, June 21, 2014


I have mixed emotions about the current happenings at my alma mater, Panther Valley. Twenty-eight years have passed and the faces have changed, but the games appear to remain the same.

First let me point out that school board members are the only local officials who are totally volunteers. School board members serve many, many hours of work each week if they are sincerely serving with total commitment.

Saturday, June 14, 2014


It's a warm, sunny Saturday morning, and I'm sitting on a wooden pew, about halfway back from the pulpit, in First Methodist Church, in the heart of Pottsville.

In the front row, a stocky man with a shock of thick white hair sits hunched, a handkerchief pressed to his eyes.

Attorney Joseph Jones, the patriarch of a venerable Schuylkill County family, a man whose calm, confident courtroom demeanor is the stuff of legend, buckles under the grief of the loss of his grandson, Capt. Jason Benjamin Jones.

Saturday, June 7, 2014

This is a story told to me at a campfire …

Like his father and grandfather before him, the farmer continued to work the land. He was alone now. He didn't need to work the land, it was just that he'd done it all his life.

None of his children or their children had wanted to follow in the footsteps of the previous generations, and that saddened him. Every Saturday night, when a week's good, hard work was done, the farmer liked to sit on his porch to watch the sunset.

Saturday, May 31, 2014


We all have priorities in life, but sometimes we need a smack in the head to get them straight.

On the Monday following Easter, I checked my Facebook page to find that a dear woman from our church had a heart attack and died.