Ronda Price Sherron

89 Days.

I didn’t know I was standing inside a “before.”

None of us ever do.

A few thoughts have been thunk lately. ❤️

89 Days

Written by Caegan B. Jackson Country music is described by many scholars and historians to be an art form of the common man, an art form that is uniquely and distinctly American. Songs of struggle, heartbreak, loss, addiction, and even redemption have long defined the genre. Perhaps nobody in the history of country music embodied and personifiedContinue reading “The Man in Black…Kind Of.”

Only Bad Witches Are Ugly

This is the second in a series of three posts written by my son, Caegan. In case you missed it last week, he was encouraged by his younger brother, Cam, to “write things out” and this is the result. It is my absolute pleasure to share these words written by one of my favorite humansContinue reading “Only Bad Witches Are Ugly”

Mr. Don’s Pizza

I am thrilled to feature a guest post written by my own son, Caegan. His brother,Cam,recently gave him the following advice: Pray about it. Write about it.Caegan took his advice. This is the result. With permission from both Caegan and Don’s wife, Laurie, I am honored to share these words with you. Love you allContinue reading “Mr. Don’s Pizza”

Keep us Safe, Lord. Keep us Safe.

To know Sam Kitchin was to love him. I was fortunate to work with Sam for many years at Midway High School and Midway Middle School. He was one of the two best In School Suspension teachers I’ve ever known (Diane Trott was the other). I’ve never known teachers who could make ISS a punishment and make kids love them at theContinue reading “Keep us Safe, Lord. Keep us Safe.”

Tending My Begonias

I put the “gone” in begonias. As a matter of fact, Joe called every plant, flower, bouquet that crossed our threshold a begonia, because he knew it was but a matter of time before they’d be-gone. 🙂 When Joe’s dad, Mr. Tim, passed away, Joe’s mom gave us one of the potted plants she received. Continue reading “Tending My Begonias”

Friends from Home

I was four years old when we moved from Duplin County to Savannah Road (although it would be several years before it became a paved road with that name). Back then, it was really just a long dirt path off Route 2 in Seven Springs. Not long after we moved in, I wandered to theContinue reading “Friends from Home”

Telling Stories

April 16, 2023 There were certain words we did not say in front of Grandma Betty. One was “pregnant”. I got my mouth popped for that one when I, at four years of age, announced the impending birth of my brother {loud and proud} at Grandma Betty’s kitchen table. Another was “fart”. My poor brotherContinue reading “Telling Stories”

Coming Unglued

December 5, 2021 Coming Unglued. I glued my mouth shut recently. Literally. Before I get into that tale, you need to know three things about Joe. He loved to pick on me about my age, he loved to get the “last laugh”, and because I always seemed to get myself in one fine mess orContinue reading “Coming Unglued”

Noun: A Person, Place or Thing

Note: I’ve made a discovery since the last (so I thought) blog post. Joe Price may have left a limited number of sermons in that black leather notebook, but he left many more lessons written on my heart. Even now, as evidenced in this entry, Joe finds a way to bring me comfort and understandingContinue reading “Noun: A Person, Place or Thing”