Wilson Post Blogs

We go through a process, we who prowl the hills and hollers and explore the waters, hunting and fishing our way through life. We grow and metamorph not unlike a butterfly. Trophies and limits mean little to us. We have changed. Our step has slowed, our hearing going, our sight dimmed and our desires softened.

Former Tennessee quarterback Tyler Bray came to Knoxville with the size and arm strength that college and NFL scouts drool about.

He is 6-foot-6, a lean 215 pounds, has a rocket arm and brought Vols fans to their feet with his ability to put deep downfield passes right on target.

By PATRICK HALL
Special to The  Wilson Post 

Let me preface by saying I consider The Great Gatsby to be one of the greatest American novels ever written, and I never expected Baz Luhrmann’s film to live up to that standard.

With that being said, Luhrmann definitely “gets it,” and his film is a decent adaptation, depicting Gatsby’s world vividly, but tries too hard to include modernity within a facade of green screens and vibrant colors.

In case you aren’t aware, “The Great Gatsby” is the story of elusive Long Island millionaire Jay Gatsby (Leonardo DiCaprio) and his neighbor, bond salesman Nick Carraway (Tobey MaGuire).

The two meet up at one of Gatsby’s illustrious parties and Gatsby persuades Carraway to set up a meet with Carraway’s cousin Daisy (Carey Mulligan), whom was in love with Gatsby just five years prior.

The story is all opulence, parties and the attempts of one man to regain a love he once had, through the material world. Lurhmann’s vision is bright and the film runs with a breakneck pace that is exhausting for the first hour.

Lurhmann seems to pound the “roaring” part of the “Roaring 20s” into the audience, with sensory overload. That overload is also a message about the decade’s overflowing wealth, alcohol and possessions.

By Angel Kane       

Wilson Living Magazine

 

People often ask Becky and I how we met. Like many other women, we bonded over “motherhood” when our children attended the same Preschool. Through the years, we‘ve been there as our babies have grown into teenagers and along the way, laughed until it hurt and cried until there were no more tears, always thankful, that there was another Mom out there experiencing the same adventure.

 

In honor of all Mothers this upcoming Mother’s Day - we bring you an Ode To Motherhood.

 

          And so it began...

 

1.   Buying not not one but four pregnancy tests - confirming and reconfirming that there really is a baby in there! Going to the OB/GYN and being utterly horrified when he explains EXACTLY how that baby will come out!

 

          Thinking...the hell it will!

 

2.  Reading “What to Expect When You’re Expecting”  three times. Buying maternity                  clothes long before they’re needed. Stocking up on baby must-haves way before they’re necessary. Decorating the nursery before one should. Telling everyone you can about your birth plan. Picking a name that is perfectly perfect....and then waiting....waiting...waiting.....

 

3.  Feeling the first contraction and realizing what you’ve always known - you don’t do anything in life naturally. You eat processed food, you don’t recycle, your carbon footprint is enormous, you medicate to fly and aging gracefully just seems moronic.

 

          Give me the big needle in the back please and make it a double dose  - I feel more pain than the average person.

 

4. Seeing, for the first time, this tiny, pink, wrinkled up creature whose piercing cry is like nails on a chalkboard.

 

          Oh hell, what have I done?

 

Watching her sleep for hours on end, poking her every 15 minutes  to make sure she is breathing. Terrified she will flip onto her stomach and suffocate. Thankful each morning when she’s still alive!

 

5.  Boiling bottles, fretting over the fact her IQ may be lower because you started her on formula, the guilt of returning to work and the secret guilt that it’s kind of nice to be back there.

 

Getting out of the house takes a good 45 minutes, packing the matching baby bag and diaper bag, the stroller that weighs at least 55 pounds, the car seat that never quite fits back into it’s holder, goldfish and cheerios in those perfectly proportioned plastic baby cups.

 

     Driving back up the driveway 5 minutes later because you forgot her blanket.

        

6. Deciding the most special baby in the world is lonely and needs a sibling.

         

        Hoping the second one is as cute as the first!

 

7.   It all works out perfectly because you’re still wearing the majority of the maternity clothes from the first baby.

 

     Who cares - all you do is work, take care of the baby, eat and sleep. 

 

The new doctor tries to talk you into Lamaze classes again - - explain this is not your first rodeo. You have absolutely no desire to breathe through any plan that doesn’t include high powered meds.

 

          Oh Hell, what is she writing down in your chart??

 

8.  Baby #1 tries to feed Baby #2 dog food! She looked so innocent while doing it...but it’s obvious she hates her. You’ve ruined her life.

 

They both cry in unison. That blood curdling, open mouth, closed eyes, turing bright                                   red, then blue, cry!

 

       This must be the 10th level of Hell!

 

9.  Two baby seats, and a stroller for two - cute matching bags go out the window, any old bag will do. Hoping against all hope you packed the right size diapers and formula, knowing  you can find some cheerios at the bottom of the bags.

 

Throw up in the van, throw up on the rug, throw up all over your new shirt. Ear infections, fifths disease, rashes and strep. Antibiotics, cough syrups, baby Tylenol, Vicks and cold compresses. 

 

Fish sticks become a complete meal, add Mac & Cheese and it must be your hubby’s birthday!

 

         Where are the matching bows??? They must have matching bows! Heads will roll if I don’t find those bows!

 

10.  Dance class, tumbling, four year olds playing soccer while skipping down the field,

the Easter Bunny and Santa photos scar them for life, finally doing Disney and realizing you are more excited about seeing Mulan than they are.

 

          Suddenly wake up from this hazy dream to find there are clones of you and your husband everywhere you go...they look crazed and tired.

         

11. Number 3  is almost here - most people think you’re crazy, others outwardly pity you,  no one believes it was planned.

 

Building a new house, selling the old one, moving into a rental when the new one isn’t ready. The builder becomes your mortal enemy, your husband is just glad you’re not yelling at him anymore.

 

        Outraged when the nurse at the hospital tells you its too early for the epidural. Lose your mind, your chart is checked, shot administered, emergency averted.

 

12. It’s a boy!!!

 

He wears pink onesies and pick socks, eats dog food every so often (you checked - its actually not a bad source of protein), the girls carry him around and you’re just thankful for the help. Hope against all hope he’s as smart as the other two, convincing yourself he’ll be fine - a kid can learn a lot from watching every episode of Zack and Cody.

 

13.  Homework and class projects that keep you up all night, Christmas programs that never end, field trips you forget to sign up for, much less pay for. Basketball, tennis, baseball, cross country, soccer, birthday parties, movie parties, bowling parties, painting parties...I am seriously out of money!

 

14.  Uncontrollable giggles, slumber parties where no one sleeps, crushes and tears.

Deciding the meanest human being on earth comes in the form of an 11 year old girl!

 

Hair pulling, screaming out “MOM” at the top of their lungs just to ask you a question, footballs and baseballs in every corner of the house, name calling, closet raiding, clean clothes on the kitchen table, dirty clothes everywhere else, threatening to put the dog to sleep if someone doesn’t feed him.

 

      I don’t know -  made sense at the time.           

 

15. Grades matter, permits, licenses, ACTs, SATs, everyone has an I-pad, I-pod, I-phone - except you! Confirming there is no greater power on earth than taking away I-pads, I-pods and I-phones!

 

16.   Oh Hell No!!  How much do I weigh!?

 

Stalking old friends on Facebook and noticing how much they look like their mothers.

 

Joining a gym, planting a garden, reading a book, taking a trip that doesn’t include visiting an aquarium, a zoo or having breakfast with a princess.

 

17. Watching your eldest drive away one morning, with the younger two smiling and waving out the back window.

 

      Googling - how old is too old to have a baby?  

 

 Buying a new car instead.

 

18. Seeing a random stranger out with her precious new baby.

 

     Oh Hell....really wishing you could do it all again. But this time you’ll do it all perfectly! Promise...

 

 

 

Christmas came early for Titans quarterback Jake Locker.

Thanks to General Manager Ruston Webster, Locker is a beneficiary of an improved supporting cast. Thanks to owner Bud Adams because he gave Webster the money he needed to add free agents and draft picks. Coach Mike Munchak now has the personnel he needs to make the playoffs. There will be no excuses.

Since Mothers Day is this month, I thought I might do a couple columns on the female type sports in our outdoors. This is the second one. JLS

They come from everywhere and do everything. One from Los Angeles owns a women’s professional basketball team and is an entertainment litigation attorney. One is from Detroit and works for the school board. One works in a shipyard in Mississippi. One is a high school student in WI. One is a physician in Oregon. As I said, they come from everywhere and do everything.

The sound of women’s laughter fills the air, accompanied by the screeching that women often do when they meet someone they have not seen in a year. As could be expected, they are doing a lot of comparing of clothing. Not to be expected is the style of clothing and the piles of equipment that is rapidly mounting on the big front porch. The clothing is camouflage and the equipment is composed of bows, arrows and knee-high boots.

Following a desire and push by Robert Pitman to get more women involved in hunting (he put his money and efforts where his mouth is), Does and Bows grew. The annual bow hunt for women only, grew from seven the first year to a capacity of 33, a few years later. At that time, women bow hunters were not on television every week nor were they the sexual centerfolds for hunting magazines. We had a waiting list for hunters.

To see this group of women unpack the latest in hunting equipment and know how to use it was definitely not the norm. However, in a few years, it became so. Hunter skill level varied from entry level to professional with world champion archers rubbing quivers and trading tips with beginners. Actual competition did not exist. When one woman killed a deer, they all celebrated. The pros spent hours coaching the newbies.

Does and Bows became an industry pattern for a few other outfitters. Hosted by the famed, now closed, White Oak Plantation near Tuskegee, AL, it was the first such venture in a struggling industry. “It is the women who take kids to soccer and dance and ball practice.” Said Robert Pitman, owner of the sprawling lodge. “We need to get them started taking the kids hunting.” A few years later, one hunter brought her 13-year old daughter to the hunt and they became regulars.

Strangely enough, industry wide, women began to show up in serious magazine articles and on television. Today, it is hard to find a television, hunting program that at some point does not feature a woman. Make no mistake they are not just there for window dressing (most of them). They can hunt with the best of the men and some of them may be better hunters.

Over the 13-years, the hunt existed. I saw a lot of growth in the skill level of the hunters. I saw several women kill their first animal at White Oak and made note of how they had grown in hunting ability since their first year there.

The archery/bow hunting industry also took note of women during these years and began to provide products designed just for them. Shorter, lighter bows became stock items with every bow company. These were serious bows, bows designed to shoot fast, accurately and kill animals up to elephant size. Women’s clothing began to show up in real camouflage designs and other manufacturers started taking notice of the “new” corner in the market. One year, according to a survey, women were the fastest and maybe only growing segment of the hunting industry. I would not be surprised if it is not still.

I am proud to have been a part of the formation of Does and Bows. I was at every hunt. I grinned as suddenly other outdoor writers began to see the marketability of stories on women hunting and more than happy to share information with them and get them with the women for interviews. I grinned even more as other outdoor guides and outfitters tested the waters of hosting women hunters.

Many made a logical and common mistake. They dumbed down the hunt. They allowed women to only kill does, not trophy animals. They did not regard the women as serious hunters. They quickly learned. I pushed hard to do more with women in the hunting sport.

Hunting today, especially bow hunting is alive and well. PETA and other so-called animal rights organizations are learning to leave hunting alone and fund their sky-high salaries by begging money to save poor, bedraggled pets. Each year I hear stories and get pictures of women with their kills. Lately, the women have been young…as in teenagers. I like seeing that.

It feels good to look back on my half-century of hunting and think of the changes. My earliest mentors would not think of going to the hunting camp without their wives. They were not there to cook, either. As a youngster, growing up in LA, I just assumed all women hunted. It was somewhat normal in LA.

As I became involved in the hunting industry, I was again surprised they were not. Only a few hunted and in most camps, were degraded by the men or relegated to doing the camp cooking. Even fewer bow hunted.

That changed at White Oak and at many other locations. At Does and Bows, there were no men with whom to compete; only other women and you could not really call it competition. The women were comfortable.

Today, it is as common to see a woman in camouflage as it is a man. Not just at Wal-Mart, either and not as a misguided fashion statement complete with tattoos and pierced noses. You can quickly tell the hunters from the rest.

I am glad to think hunting is in good hands. I think Robert Pitman’s goal has been reached. I truly think the women are taking the kids to soccer, dance and…Hunting.

Contact John L. Sloan / This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it

Walking through Kroger today I noticed an Almay makeup display. The sign featured Hollywood’s beloved Mother/Daughter duo Goldie Hawn and Kate Hudson, who is the company’s current spokesperson. The advertisement reminded ladies to remember their own moms this Mother’s Day (Sunday, May 12).

“All the best makeup secrets come from my mom,” Kate was quoted.

If my mom and I had a makeup campaign, my quote would be: “All the best advice comes from my mom.”

I do not know how she does it, but mom has the answers to just about everything. I could be at the point of hysteria and in about 30 seconds my mom can calm me down and make me see the light.

She says that this wisdom is partly due to the fact that she isn’t 24 anymore, like I am, and has gained experience “just by living.”

Once when I was in Kindergarten I swear my mom read my mind. It was one of those bad, stormy, tornado-warning days in Middle Tennessee and my class at Tulip Grove Elementary in Hermitage had been practicing our “tornado drill.”

For a little kid, the tornado drill is almost as scary as the real tornado. We didn’t know what was going on other than the fact that the lights were off, the thunder was roaring and we kept receiving these emergency instructions. I remember being at my desk and just wishing as hard as I could that my mother was there.

Lo and behold, not 20 minutes later there was a knock on our classroom door – and it was my sweet mama. This was quite a few years ago when school security was not as tight and parents could stop by for a visit in the middle of the day.

She didn’t stay long, just wanted to make sure that I was okay since she knew how scared I was of storms.

She has always been there for me – cheering me on in school plays, in the bleachers at every football and basketball game I cheered at in middle school and high school, teaching me how to accessorize and match my shoes with my purse, sacrificing things for herself so that I could have the perfect prom dress, homecoming dress, Abercrombie jeans, a limo ride on my seventh "princess themed" birthday or a brand new Mustang when I graduated from high school.

And yes, she also taught me about makeup. How to contour my cheeks, which eyeliner will last through a night of dancing, and the mantra that Miranda Lambert has now made famous: “Go and fix your makeup, girl. It’s just a breakup!”

“Because,” mom says, “When you look good you feel better. You never let them see you sweat.”

I hope that one day in the future I will get married to a wonderful man and have a baby girl of my own to share all these life lessons with. Of course at that point my mom will probably have to move in with us because I won’t have a clue what I am doing – and like I said, she has the answers. (Ha Ha)

This blog is dedicated to my mother, #1 fan, stylist, therapist and best friend, Pamela Garrett – and all the other incredible mothers out there who have gone above and beyond for their babies. Mothers are truly angels on earth!

 

If you are like me you have about five articles of clothing that you wear on a regular basis – and about 50 that don’t fit, are collecting dust or have their tags still on them.

I realized just how much stuff was piling up this week when I bought a black fringe bikini at Target. I came home and tried on my newest purchase. “I am so happy to have a new bikini for summer,” I thought…until I realized that I already had three black bikinis that were still wearable. Needless to say the fringe one went back to the store.

A lot of times we don’t organize our things the way we should because of time constraints and just the general stress of it all. Organizing your closet – unless you are a professional or just extremely detail oriented – is annoying.

I started working on my closet last night and after about three hours I believe it is about as clean as it is going to get. Here are some of the problems I ran into and how I approached them.

Hope it helps with your closet!

1. Get rid of old clothes: Almost everyone has a dress or two that they do not wear anymore. Sure a few may be tattered or extremely out of style – but for the most part they are good clothes that do not fit or you simply do not wear anymore. I bagged up several and gave them to a friend’s church clothing drive to help those less fortunate, but there are other options to get rid of excessive amounts of clothing:

• Give them to a friend who it might fit. It may be an item that you have worn 200 times, but it will be new to them.
• Give it to Goodwill or a church, as I mentioned above. Goodwill in Lebanon has a drop container. Just make sure they are currently open and accepting items before you go.
• Have a yard sale or sell nicer items online.
• Figure out new uses for old clothing (ex: Could you use it in the future for a Halloween costume? Cut up old t-shirts for cleaning rags or cut off outdated denim pants into distressed spring shorts.)

2. Get plastic containers: Shoe boxes take up entirely too much space, in my opinion, so I invested in clear plastic containers that can easily slide under my bed or be stacked in the closet. Plus – if you are a shoe addict like me, you can get colored boxes for different shoe seasons to keep suede boots separate from espadrilles.

3. Develop a system: I moved all of my winter clothes to the back of my closet and all of the spring/summer ones to the front for this season. I also separated blouses and dresses – and hung all of my new items in the front. That way I will remember to wear them and they won’t get lost if my closet gets messy again!

By Becky Andrews

Remember when we were kids and all you ever wanted was to be treated like a grown up? Grown-ups got to all the fun stuff; drive, go to bed when they wanted to, wear makeup, talk on the phone all night, eat cookies before dinner, date who they wanted, watch rated R movies, and they only talked to their parents when they wanted to. Adults could also curse anytime they wanted to.

The most insulting part was grownups, like my parents, didn’t even appreciate the fact that they had these freedoms. Instead they would show off their power and spout off things like,

“Go to bed!”

“You are too young to wear makeup”

“Sex kills! Seriously, it does! Ask your father!” My dad agreed, but he wouldn’t even say the word. It wasn’t until later that I realized being one of six children my parents obviously had nine lives.

“You want to go to the movies with a boy? Sure, but first let me inject myself with the plague.”  

“When you have a car of your own, you can pick the music.”

“Stop putting makeup on your little brother.” That’s the price he paid for my parents not having cable.

“You do get paid to work in the family business. You get a roof over your head, food, and we paid for your braces. If anything, you should be paying us.”

 “We are having a family night tonight. That means only those with your last name can stop by, sleep over, or eat at this house.” Family night meant we watched Gunsmoke reruns and had to go to bed by 8pm. My parents loved family night!

And my personal favorite,

“This hurts us worse than it hurts you.” A few years after my first child was born my mom fessed up. “It didn’t really hurt us at all. In fact, sometimes it felt wonderful to teach you little twits a lesson.”

At the time, it seemed so unfair to have to wait 18 years to be considered a grown up. More than two decades after becoming an adult I can proudly say, being a grownup isn’t exactly what I thought it would be. There are even days when it sucks!

Sure I go to bed when I want. I can stay up ALL.NIGHT.LONG. Although it’s usually because of a fussy baby, pending deadline or marathon house cleaning before out of town relatives arrive the next day.

Thank God I can wear as much makeup as I want to now. I use it to cover the dark circles, freckles (i.e. age spots) and sun damage.

I can eat whatever I want, whenever I want…until my fat pants get snug.

As an adult, I also get to pay a mortgage, taxes, and pay for braces, insurance, and batting/guitar/drum/shooting lessons for our children.

So whenever I hear my kids complain about how rough they have it, I just remind them that it won’t be too many years before they will have their own car, mortgage and fat pants. For now, they are stuck with me and their dad for family night. Mom was right, this feels awesome!

 

Comments? You can email Becky at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it

 

 

Control-ALT-Delete…

By BECKY ANDREWS

Wilson Living Magazine

There were seven beeps then nothing. When I tried rebooting, the same seven beeps and blank screen. That’s how a device that weighs less than a newborn, has no conscience or sense of urgency turned my life completely upside down for SEVEN FULL DAYS!

When I took my tech baby to the doctor, I got the standard battery of questions. If there’s anything that will make you feel more inept as a human being it’s being questioned by an IT Specialist, Programmer, System Administrator or any other computer person title you can think of that means, “You are a complete moron and a disgrace to Silicon Valley.”

By the grace of Steve Jobs I found a guy that is cool with me not worshipping at the altar of Apple to fix my super inefficient Windows-operating laptop without using inside words like “PITA” to describe me. (LOOK IT UP)

Here’s how the conversation went:

“Did you notice your processor overheating?”

“What’s a processor?”

“It’s the brain of your computer; the memory, everything. When it overheats for an extended amount of time, it will completely shut down and take everything with it.”

He acted like it was no big deal, so I really didn’t think there was a reason to worry. I felt super smart. We were getting each other. For a moment, I felt technically superior, even thinking that I may adopt all hoodie/flip flop wardrobe and listening to continuous loop of dub step. But then, he continued.

“Since everybody backs up these days, it’s not that big of a deal to lose your information.”

“Right. Wait, what? What do you mean? I’ve lost everything on my computer?”

“Probably, but as long as you saved it on your external hard drive, don’t worry about it.”

“My what? Is that another name for a thumb drive?”

He looked over the top of his reading glasses as if he was trying to decide if I was joking or a complete moron. That’s when he realized that, yes, I am a complete moron and not really that funny. In fact, it was just a few months ago I learned that Google is considered a verb.

This is probably where his story and my story will differ.

He might say I got emotional and tried talking him out of giving up so easy. He might even say that I blamed this whole fiasco on my children, my husband, the Harlem Shake or the fact that I was a Jehovah’s Witness as a child.

I would like to say this is NOT how it happened. But, because this person recovered all of that very valuable information, I’m not going to call him a liar. I’m not even going to blame it on PMS. I will just say this: I may be an idiot. I may not know the difference between MB and RAM. I may have outdated software, still use Internet Explorer, and prefer Facebook to Twitter. HOWEVER, I do know the computer I just ordered is already obsolete, techie people are 21^st century mechanics spouting off a dialect mere mortals can’t understand, and the next time someone asks about backing up, I’ll know they are not talking about a person’s driving abilities. 

Email any comments to This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it because luckily she knows how to check email.

 

Blessings

 

Thank You Sweet Jesus for giving me, not one, but two, teenage daughters at the same time. For were it not for them, I:

 

1. Would not to know that Facebook is now for old people, and that anyone older than 22 is forbidden from being on Instagram.

Except for Ms. Jamie, and “that’s just weird, Mom.”

 

2. Would have never guessed that listening to 80’s music is so incredibly painful to the teenage ear that earbuds must be worn at all times while in my car to drown out the likes of Journey and Billy Joel.

“Who are those people? They sound old.”

 

3. Would probably still be trying to hook up my new Apple computer and would have NEVER figured out that the keyboard and mouse don’t need to be hooked up to anything because of this wonderful thing called Bluetooth!

For that one and for their iPad, iPhone and iAnything capabilities, I do thank    you, sweet baby Jesus!

 

4. Would still be wearing white Keds.

“Why are you wearing those, you are not a nurse.”

 

5. Would still be able to find my shoes, jewelry, scarves, jackets, sweater, make-up,  perfume, brushes, hair bands, curling iron, blow-dryer, shampoo, conditioner and razor.

Madison-Zoeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!! It’s just become one word.

 

6. Would have never had to sit through a Miley Cyrus or Taylor Swift concert.

And for that one, Jesus, I may never forgive you.

 

7. Would get to eat an entire plate of anything, without someone trying to eat my food, drink my drink, or steal my last piece of chocolate hidden away in the depths of my secret drawer.

 

8. Would not get to be part of the uncomfortable three-some ensemble called a first date.

      That one, I’m going to have to go to confession for, Lord Jesus, because I know        

      You know what I was thinking when I had to partake of that fun fest.

 

9. Wouldn’t be one of the lucky few who get to spend their hard earned dollars in the likes of Forever 21, Altar’d State and Charming Charlies.

      “Please, just this one scarf, I’ll pay you back.” Really, how? You don’t have a             

       job! No, cleaning your room is not a paying job.

 

10. Would miss out on hugs and heartaches, tears and triumphs, late night jokes and giggles and all those moments that will one day be the only moments that matter!

But honestly, Jesus, Taylor Swift? There had to be another way to prove you are a    miracle worker.

By Angel Kane

I consider myself a pretty patient person. So patient, in fact, that one of my claims to fame are my outstanding blood pressure numbers.

They are incredibly low. Low enough that medical professionals sometimes find it concerning. I just smile and inform them, “Oh no, that’s just normal for me.”

But, I’m pretty certain that if I were to run by Walgreens this morning and stick my arm in that cuff, SIRENS WOULD GO OFF! (And men in white jackets would come cart me away!)

As I write this today, Brody and my three children are begging me not to tell you about the subject, or should I say subjects that have basically ruined my life.

But I have reached my limit!

It all started so innocently as I perused Pinterest and came upon the most lovely of all pantries. It was a walk in, with shelving, and on each shelf the food products were laid out; first all the tin cans, then the baking products, then the cereals and so on.

It was so ordered, so organized, so OCD, that it literally spoke to me. (Yes, I know, my family has the men in white jackets on speed dial.)

Three weeks later, I converted one of the small rooms off our kitchen into a walk in pantry. I had shelves put in and then spent an entire Saturday moving the food into the pantry, lining everything up, labeling tins, putting like food groups with like food groups …it was my own, personal heaven-on-earth.

One week later, I reached for a bag of flour and the bottom fell out!

Flour went everywhere. I was covered, my tins were covered, my walls were covered, my pretty multi-colored floor mat was covered, and as I reached down to look at the mess, I noticed the bite marks on the bag and the little black specks of…………..AGGGHHH!!!

When I’m 65 years old, and go in for my first MRI - I’m quite certain the Doctor will ask me, “Mrs. Kane it appears you’ve had a stroke sometime in your past, can you recall when that may have happened?”

And I’m going to know EXACTLY when it happened!

You see my friends, we have RATS.  A word Brody can’t quite commit to.

“Would you please stop calling them rats, they are field mice. And stop telling everyone about them.”

It appears I’m not the only one who coveted my pantry. Apparently a friendly field mouse also thought it was smoking hot, so he told all the other field mice in town about it, who are now having a convention in my pantry.

Since that fateful day, I have been purging, cleaning, scrubbing, bleaching, re-bleaching, screaming, yelling, googling…fighting an all-out losing battle…against field mice.

Most evenings as Brody walks by the pantry and sees me crazed, on hands and knees, checking my traps, he says in a quiet voice …so as not to antagonize…”Field mice just come in when it’s cold. They leave in the spring. I think you’re going overboard.”

“Overboard. Overboard? Google Haute Virus or the Plague! And by the way, these are RATS…if you say the word field mice one more time, I’m going to lose my mind!” (He clutches the phone. Go ahead, call the men with the jacket, I don’t care.) 

And don’t even get me started about the cashier at Lowes. I’ve been in there three Sundays in a row.

First, I started with the glue pads, six boxes of them. “They are for my son’s class project,” I said. She nodded and looked sad for me. 

The next week, I got the poison. The big bag - the one with the scoop. Eyes averted, I whispered “Our neighbors have field mice. They’re getting into our shed.” She pities me, I can tell. I hate her.

This last weekend, when I went to Lowes, I spent over $150 on equipment that I read about on an online Rat Forum. These Plug-Ins emit a piercing sound that field mice hate but humans can‘t hear. I handed her eight of them to ring up.

We made eye contact. “We have Rats.” I said and smiled. She looked away. 

As soon as I got home, I plugged them all in.

Oh God….I think I can hear the buzzing sound! (At least my padded room won’t be infested.)  

Is Tim Tebow finished in the NFL?

It was no disgrace to be let go by the Broncos when they had their eye on Peyton Manning.

Since Mothers Day is coming up, I decided to devote a couple columns to the women and mothers in the outdoors. I think they deserve some special recognition. JLS

Surrounded by dogs, horses and a houseful of hunting trophies is a hardcore huntress. Kristi Lynn Hair is passionate about hunting. In fact, that is about all she does. Along with Idaho hunter, Meagan Johnson, she formed Hardcore Huntresses, an online community for women to come share their hunting experiences. It is catching on. I think it is a neat deal.

Horse and hat enthusiasts, rejoice!

The Kentucky Derby kicks off this weekend – which means celebrities and other notables will be breaking out the mint juleps and heading to Churchill Downs in their most colorful spring attire.

For those of you who prefer to remain closer to home – the Iroquois Steeplechase will take place the following weekend, Saturday, May 11 at Percy Warner Park in Nashville. I have been searching all over local stores and the internet for outfit inspiration. Here are three of the best looks I have found!

Which ones do you like?

It is no surprise that someone would remember the first deer he or she killed. It is right up there with the birth of a child or the first girl with whom you ever made love. You don’t forget those things. What is a surprise, at least to me, is that I can remember the first largemouth bass I caught. Among my fishing memories that go back almost 65-years are bits and pieces of several fish I caught or did not catch.

Terrorists attacked a major sporting event last week, the Boston Marathon. It was a soft target, virtually impossible for authorities to prevent.

It was an attack pulled off by amateurs compared to lifelong terrorists determined and trained to bring this country to its knees.

“Fat” is such an ugly word. I hate it.

Anytime I hear someone call another person “fat” – I cringe over how cruel it sounds.

Sure, some people are really thin. Some people are overweight. And some people are in between.

But you know what? It takes all shapes and sizes to keep this world moving – and shame on you for berating another person!

This topic has been on my mind ever since it was announced that reality star Kim Kardashian is pregnant. Every time I am in the grocery store, all the tabloids say – “Kim Kardashian gains 200 pounds!” – or something to that effect and I think it is beyond mean.

She is a shorter, curvier girl to begin with – of course she is going to gain some weight when she is pregnant! In one article I saw, they interviewed a doctor who said that pregnant women should only gain 25 to 35 pounds and that Kardashian appears to have gained much more.

She must be on the same diet that my mother was on. I was born weighing only 5 pounds and 11 ounces – but my mom will tell you that she gained about 60 pounds when she was pregnant with me and once got stuck in a sports car. But you know what? I came into this world happy and healthy and she managed to lose the weight in six months.

Pregnant women are experiencing a miracle and growing another person inside of them – and should never be called “fat.”

Instead of criticizing each other and putting unrealistic expectations on young women in real life and in Hollywood – let’s compliment one another! My challenge to blog readers is a piece of advice I learned from Mom. She said “not everyone can look like a model, but all people have something unique and beautiful about them. It may be inside or it may be on the outside – but when you see it, compliment them on it.”

What comes around goes around.

The Honorable Foster Butt once said, “Make sure your taxes are in and then hit the water.”

What he meant was, mid-April is a hot time to be fishing in Tennessee. April 15, would have been the Ides of April back ole Julius Caesar’s time. Famed smallmouth angler, Harold Dotson swore it was the best time to fish Center Hill especially on a rainy day. Both largemouth and smallmouth bass get right about then.

The 77th Masters had more twists and turns than a Grand Prix layout.

Tiger Woods, the No. 1 ranked golfer in the world was penalized two shots Saturday for a rules violation he committed Friday.