By Gretchen Ritchey
I remember as a child my grandfather, Myrtic Ashley, plowing his garden using a mule.
Iâ€™ll never be a Maya Angelou. I believe if you talk to most people who become journalists or writers, they will say they realized their serious love for writing in about fifth or sixth grade. At Smith Elementary, it was sixth grade for me â€” when we read â€śI Know Why the Caged Bird Singsâ€ť in Mr. Brookâ€™s literature class.
It was too deep for me to grasp at the time, but I was most impressed with the fact that I was studying something in school that a woman from Arkansas had written. I couldnâ€™t understand her struggle or her pain, so her triumphs were lost on me.
By Gretchen Ritchey, staff writer â€”
â€śThe Lone Rangerâ€ť fell to â€śDespicable Me 2â€ť in its opening weekend, although Iâ€™m not sure why.
Welcoming a new puppy onto the farm can sometimes be difficult.
I acquired a Great Pyrenees/Anatolian Shepherd mix female puppy a few weeks back. Yes, sheâ€™s going to be a very large dog if her size at nine weeks is any indication.
I gave her the name Izzy. Not sure why I decided on Izzy, but it sounded good and was easy to speak. I call her â€śIzâ€ť for short when sheâ€™s being a cute and cuddly puppy.