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The “One”

Before I got married, I had three serious relationships on record. The first was a sweet country boy in cowboy boots and wide-rimmed hats. I was 15, and he had a driver’s license and a real job at a convenience store. Whenever I hear “Strawberry Wine”, I picture us parked over the fence of the airport…

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Burn Your Files

I’ve heard it said that confession is good for the soul, so here I go: I’m a terrible driver. I know the stereotype, that men are supposed to be proud of their directional and driving skills, but really, I’m such a bad driver that my inner compass is overshadowed by the horrific way I take…

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