It's Me, Margaret.

Category

Politics

peace talk

Here’s the beautiful candlelight vigil that happened in Waterfront Park last night. I almost didn’t go. I learned about it yesterday morning, and my internal conflict started immediately. Here’s a glimpse of what it’s like up in Crazy Town, otherwise… Continue Reading →

what i got out of ‘get out’

I recently did something completely decadent and absolutely satisfying. I took myself to the movies at 11:45 on a Wednesday morning. That’s right – smack in the middle of the work day and the work week, I snuck off to the Plaza Stadium Theatre… Continue Reading →

on not marching

Yesterday, I ran into a friend at the MLK Day parade – somebody I’ve known and admired for a long time. She stepped out of the parade to give me a hug and a mint-green rubber bracelet that reads “Choosing Love,… Continue Reading →

where were you?

I wrote this essay 5 years ago, for the 10th anniversary of 9/11. I still mean every word of it… ### Last Saturday night, I was sitting with some friends on our second-story office porch overlooking Waterfront Park. The air was… Continue Reading →

the finest thing around

I wade into this column with trepidation. There’s something beautiful I want to share with you, but I’ll have to walk through a field of landmines to get to my point. Along the way, I’ll be discussing things like race… Continue Reading →

odd birds

Have I mentioned that I like birds? Yes, that was sarcasm. And unlike Donald Trump, I understand the meaning of the word. I’m well aware I’ve written about birds here. Ad nauseam. (Your nauseam, not mine. I could go on… Continue Reading →

our national infection

Before sunup last Thursday morning, I dragged my creaky self, in my creaky station wagon, over to the Lowe’s parking lot to fetch my daughter. She’d been bussed back to Beaufort overnight with 80 local teenagers who’d just spent the… Continue Reading →

A Word About Language

Recently, I was lying in bed at 3:40 am – never a great time to be awake – thinking about the column I had to write later that day. When you’ve been penning columns for 15 years, like me, you… Continue Reading →

where the wild things are

I think I’ve mentioned our cat door, haven’t I? There’s no more certain indicator that spring is sprung than the sudden annual influx of critters – the undomesticated kind – through the small, humble flap that separates our kitchen from… Continue Reading →

that’s so conroy

In the days immediately following Pat Conroy’s death, I couldn’t write a word. It happened on a Friday night, and by Saturday morning there were already long, comprehensive tributes appearing in publications as nearby as the Beaufort Gazette, as far-flung… Continue Reading →

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