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I was walking through a neighborhood in Oxford recently—one of those older areas where the oak trees are massive and the houses have that classic Southern charm. I noticed two houses side-by-side that were likely
I was standing in a friend’s kitchen in Madison last summer when one of those classic Mississippi afternoon “pop-up” storms rolled through. You know the ones—where the sky turns a weird shade of bruised purple
You know that feeling when you walk past a window in July and it feels like a space heater is blowing directly on your neck? Or maybe you’ve spent your Saturday morning fighting with a
I remember standing in a driveway in Tupelo a few years back. The homeowner, a nice guy named Miller, was staring up at his roof with a look of pure exhaustion. A nasty spring storm
I know the feeling. You’re sitting in your living room, the thunder is rattling the windows, and you hear that distinct thwack of a branch hitting the shingles. Or worse, the deafening sound of golf-ball-sized
I was sitting on a porch in Oxford the other day, just watching the heat shimmer off the asphalt, and it hit me—we really ask a lot of our houses down here. Living in Mississippi