Articles by Shannon Bardwell
Possumhaw: The Cleaning Woman
Back in the 2000’s I wrote a few short stories published in short story books. Since I mentioned a few New Year’s Resolutions last week, I thought I’d share an excerpt about my friend Margaret.
Possumhaw: Nearing the New Year
The next two days will go by quickly. Tomorrow will be New Year’s Eve, bringing in an entirely new year full of who knows what? Our Christmas was nice and quiet, and I hope your Christmas was a good one as well. The day after Christmas we drove north to spend a brief bit of time with a lovely family member who now lives far away.
Possumhaw: Christmas then and now
All of us once were children full of wonder and joy with a heart that could hardly wait for Christmas. My family found our trees where the Boy Scouts and the Optimist club sold Christmas trees.
Possumhaw: Me & Jimmy
I have a nice collection of Christmas stories. I thought I’d share a few over the next two Tuesdays before Christmas Eve arrives.
Possumhaw: Caught in the middle again
It’s exactly one week since Thanksgiving as I write this column.
Possumhaw: No place like home
Last week we had a wonderful Thanksgiving. It was a quiet time between Sam and I until his sister and her husband arrived.
Possumhaw: Black Bellied Whistling Duck and its bride
Six years ago, a Black Bellied Whistling Duck landed in the big lake. The bird is an amazing creature.
Possumhaw: Ladybug fly away home
Tis the season for ladybugs swarming about by the thousands. They crawl inside the upstairs room where the sun heats the little critter, allowing them to warm up as the morning turned cold. They can be found on the porches, outdoor walls, the garage, the boat shed and sometimes on your shoulder or your sleeve.
Possumhaw: Building blocks of reading
My college roommate and I were both readers, and we came from families who taught us to love books and read their stories for enjoyment.
Possumhaw: The testimony of John Tate
My name is John Tate. I am an inmate at Oktibbeha County Jail. If you close your eyes just a minute I can tell you how I got there and the action that I did and how it affected the people that I love, my wife, my kids, my mother, my father who was dying of cancer, my wife who was on chemo.
Possumhaw: For the love of pansies
The hot summer sun finally left us. For several months a drought caused deep cracks in the ground while the grass, flowers, and trees lost their usual growing time.
Possumhaw: Time of the season, his and hers
For weeks now Sam has been blowing the falling leaves back into the woods where they belong. It’s a time of “abscission” described as the natural detachment of parts of a plant and ripe fruit, though typically dead leaves.
Possumhaw: Life and Times of Beauty Rieves
Last week rummaging through my files I came upon a folder with a letter I had written in 2003 to The Mississippi Department of Agriculture and Commerce Marketing Development Division. They had put out a call for interesting churches across the state.
Possumhaw: Lost Art
Last Wednesday the family sat out on the porch in the cool of the morning. The family at home includes Sam, Wilhelmina the cat, and me. We enjoyed the awakening of the first day of October.
Possumhaw: Then and now
September used to be when we returned to school. By Labor Day we were wearing flannels and knee socks. Football was up and going. The stadium was full, the game was going well, we were jumping up and down shouting our cheerleader slogans and so on.
Possumhaw: This is the day
Summer seems to linger with temperatures reaching into the 90’s by midday. Wilhemina is twisting and turning at my feet while we sit on the porch as we do most mornings. Leaves are falling but I don’t think it is because of the advent of Fall.
Possumhaw: There will be a brighter day
It was a home day; Sam had gone fishing leaving early in the morning. I slipped away to do my YMCA pool workout then back home. That’s what I call a home day where you spend all or most of the day at home for chores.
Possumhaw: The silken sacks
All around the homestead one can find what looks like a hanging ball of silk or spider webbing in the trees. These silken bags have nothing to do with spiders. The silken bags are provided by fall webworms.
Possumhaw: All along the tree line
Most evenings when the weather allows, Sam and I take a ride on the Gator around the edge of the tree line. The persimmon trees are just getting started showing off persimmons.
