Feature Story

You’re only as happy as your saddest child.” As the terminally trendy say, “Word.”

Once upon a simple-minded time, the start of school meant the usual commotion — shopping for supplies, setting alarm clocks, returning to busy schedules, etc. Then my youngest began middle school, and stockpiling highlighters and playing “beat the clock” with the school bus became the halcyon days.

It was Gil Bailie who said, “Don’t ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and go do that, because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”

“What did I just do?"

It was a hot, dry summer day back in 2000 when a stray black cat we called Sadie showed up at our house. I gave him food and shelter in our back yard, and he became my first lesson in, “If you feed them, they will bring friends.” Before long, Sadie left and returned, bringing with him a girlfriend and her kitten. It was as if he’d told them, “Hey, I found this great safe place with good food.” They decided they liked our house, so they stayed. I trapped the kitten and took her to the vet. She was tested, vaccinated, and spayed ...

Diamonds are a girl’s best friend? Maybe. But her true love is her pet. Our pets enhance our lives and, in turn, we should enhance theirs. Take a drive through Nashville, and you’ll find pet boutiques, grooming salons, and doggie daycares in every corner of town, all offering to pamper your critter companion. And pamper them you should!

People say that when you lose something, you should go back to the place you think you saw it last. But when you lose someone you love, those are the places that are the hardest to look. Brumby, our golden retriever, took his last breath just a few months ago in early April, and nothing could have prepared us for such a loss. He wasn’t just a dog; he was our unconditional confidant. We operated at the same speed and spoke the same language. We lived and loved and were content just being us. We danced in our underwear, well at least I did, but Brumby never judged.

I made my film debut as a Bond girl, fearlessly steering a speedboat off the coast of Monte Carlo. Behind the wheel, solo and sassy, I was a fox on the French Riviera. Despite the action, my light blond hair — coiffed, flipped, and sprayed like Annette Funicello’s in Beach Blanket Bingo — didn’t move until …

The simple act of tearing off a phone number from one of those handwritten, photocopied ads posted on Bongo Java’s bulletin board back in 1995 determined the course of my next 15 summers. “We’re forming a new Ultimate Frisbee women’s team,” the flyer said. “Beginners welcome.”

That’s what we called our lake house. Bungalow Island. And when every summer arrives, bringing with it an arsenal of sensory memory triggers, I’m always reminded of our little slice of paradise. 

Not only was Julie Todd shorter than all the boys, she was blessed with big breasts, an endless wardrobe, and small feet. For that matter, so was the rest of the cheerleading squad. I, on the other hand, was the odd ball, the misfit who stood at least a fist taller than any of them and towered over all the cute boys.