Photo by Dan Kegley
Brenda Umbarger, executive assistant of operations at Smyth-Bland Regional Library, watches deliverymen position a new sculpture at the front of the main branch Wednesday. Umbarger and library director Patricia Hatfield said they fell in love with “Fallen Log,” a lost-wax cast bronze sculpture by Randolph Rose, when they saw it in an exhibit at a conference in Washington, D.C., in June. The sculptor had reduced the price, and Umbarger said the library’s friends group presented the sculpture to the library. The Randolph Rose Collection is based at the World Arts Center in Yonkers, N.Y. 

This summer, I’ve appreciated the blessings of refrigerated air:
Cold glacial chunks of pink watermelon on a muggy afternoon. A jar of ice-cube-clinking lemonade forming beads and a wet ring on the counter, and which you hold to your hot face before swigging. The lovely, soul-restoring bliss of chilled chocolate milk, falling through the floors of your innards like a rich cold river, bringing old memories and hopes to life.
Then, there’s my car. I have no AC because I rarely used it in my last car, and don’t drive many long stints on the sun-beaten interstate.

The baby bird, according to my youngest, got hit by the swing set. 

Beware whenever “the children” are used to justify some action, inaction or cause. You can bet that “the children” won’t benefit one bit either way. You can be equally sure that all attempts at logical conversation and debate have gone out the window. At that point there can be no pros or cons, only “the children.”

Be sure to click the "VIDEO" link at right to see a slideshow from FloydFest!

FloydFest kicks it up with Cajun swing

When I woke up Monday morning and had to negotiate with my legs to carry me to the kitchen, it took me a few minutes to realize what the matter was. I’m older than I was 13 years ago. And my body holds a grudge when my brain forgets it. 

Though each brick is engraved with a few words, they tell stories individually and collectively.

Love of the oak tree is acquired, like a taste for bitter coffee or hiking, work or philosophy.  It may hold no sweetness or excitement for us as children, but has an enduring appeal that grows with time. 

Don’t leave the kids at grandma’s! Bring them to FloydFest