I do not want to brag but it is no secret, my granddaughters are both angels incognito. I do not tell everyone this, only those who will listen. Since they are nearly perfect, I was a little concerned about what I was hearing through the telephone. My daughter was on the phone with me, but all I could hear was my oldest granddaughter in the background. Ava was having a meltdown. To be honest I was more than a little sympathetic. Someone once said that grandparents and grandchildren get along so well because they have a common enemy, the parents.

It was hot in Philadelphia the summer of 1776, unusually so (according to the Web site http://www.virginiaviewpoint.com). Temperatures throughout June had been running in the 90s coupled with high humidity. There was no such thing as air-conditioning, dehumidifiers or even an electric fan to help. Nor, for that matter, was there even ice for cooling drinks.

Piney and She were veritably drunk to be back in Southwest Virginia!

Two weeks ago, Advance Abingdon placed 27 painted wolf statues around town to recall Abingdon’s earliest name, Wolf Hill.  On Monday, June 22, two of the painted wolves were missing.  Everyone jumped to the knee-jerk conclusion that the two were stolen.  Happily, less than a week later, the two were discovered in some bushes at the Washington County Public Library.  Gary Kimbrell and other promoters heaved a great sigh of relief.

Independence Day invites us to reflect on all kinds of things, including what it means to be a good American.  Since 1776, that meaning has evolved with various Congressional acts.

A few years ago, the Patriot Act served as a reminder.  This act, among other things, gave law enforcement agencies more license to search private records if national security may be at risk.  The fine line between personal privacy and the public good blurred some.

For my high school friend, Cole Wilder, playing in the NCAA tournament at the Greensboro Coliseum as a member of the Radford Highlanders on March 19 was unquestionably one of the greatest experiences of his life.  “Growing up it was always my dream to play in the tournament,” he told me recently.  “It was a long journey and the destination was fantastic.” 

Cowboy Jack Vipperman arrived riding a pigeon-toed mule named Jezebel.  He’d ridden all the way from Black Lick and his muscles ached.  The mule’s hips swayed back and forth like a fat woman trying to shake, rattle and roll.  Up the hill they came until they reached the barn.

The seats were great, but I was not in a great mood. The Phantom of the Opera had come to Charlotte’s Belk Theatre. As we were already in town, it was Linda’s idea that we go. I, on the other hand, was a reluctant patron.

Unfortunately, a longstanding tradition in Appalachia has been that healthcare was often difficult to find due to the lack of healthcare professionals in the region. However, while not at the forefront of easy access to quality healthcare, the outlook for the region, particularly in this area, has improved greatly.

Piney pondered the old age hazard of getting deaf and losing your memory. It wasn’t all bad.