by Jessica Breazeale I heard something recently that I haven't been able to shake. A man said he stopped complaining about the very things he prayed for. Y'all. I had to sit down. Think about it. Remember when you begged God for that job? You promised you'd never take it for granted. You'd show up early and give it your best. Now it's Monday morning, and you're griping about the workload before you've finished your coffee. Remember that house? You drove by it, dreamed about i

By Jessica Breazeale As if she needs a caption! (The late but great Dolly Parton herself!) I have two hanging baskets on my front porch, and I've started calling them my Dolly Parton wig plants. That's genuinely the only way I know how to describe them — big, full, bouncy, bursting with life. I don't even know what kind of plant they are. I think I picked them up at Buds and Blooms, and one of these days I need to actually ask somebody what I'm growing. For now I just know th

By Jessica Breazeale When I was little, I wanted to be a Broadway star. Name in lights, singing and dancing well into my 90s, probably still doing eight shows a week when I needed a walker to get to the wings. That was the plan. These days, if you stopped me on the street and offered me the lead in the next big musical, I’ll admit I’d pause. Old dreams don’t die easily. But I wouldn’t take it — because somewhere between then and now, my definition of “growing up” quietly rear

By Jessica Breazeale Look at this picture. What do you see? Imagine a man walking along with a cloud hanging directly above his head. He walks into town. The cloud follows. He goes home. The cloud follows. He travels across the country. The cloud still follows. Now, what do you see? One person might say, “That man is depressed. Darkness is following him everywhere he goes.” Another might say, “No, he’s a thinker. That cloud is filled with ideas, imagination and creativi

By Jessica Breazeale Most evenings, you can find me outside, chair tilted back, eyes on the sky. It's my place of peace — the one part of the day where nothing is asking anything of me. And almost every evening, around the same time, the same thing happens: a line of what looks like ducks flies overhead in a perfect V. Every single time, without fail, my brain does the same thing — it flashes straight back to childhood, to The Mighty Ducks, Emilio Estevez wrangling a rag-tag

By Jessica Breazeale You've heard it a hundred times. Probably from your mama, maybe from a frustrated coworker, definitely from a friend talking you down off a ledge of self-pity: “The world doesn’t revolve around you.” Usually it comes with a little side-eye attached. But stick with me, because there’s something genuinely wonderful hiding inside that old saying — and part of it isn’t even a metaphor. It's Not Just a Saying. It's Literally True. Here’s a fun one: for most of

By Jessica Breazeale Pair of modern dice You know the phrase. Somebody's staring down a decision — a job offer, a first date, whether to say yes to the thing that scares them — and they shrug and say, "Well, I guess I'll just roll the dice." It's a phrase we use for recklessness. For giving up on strategy and letting luck take the wheel. It's the opposite of a plan. I got curious about where that phrase actually comes from, so I went down a rabbit hole. My first guess was tha

By Jessica Breazeale There's something about seeing that covered wagon roll across the screen again that just does my heart good. That nostalgia that is like chicken soup when you’re sick. Netflix brought back Little House on the Prairie this month, and I'll admit, I skipped it a few times before giving it a watch. I was skeptical at first because I thought, “we’re so past that in society.” And reboots don't always get it right. But watching the Ingalls family settle into a

By Jessica Breazeale I was recently intrigued…and then very inspired by plankton. I know. I know. Of all the things to get a woman fired up, plankton was not on my list either. But here we are, and I’m not even a little bit sorry about it. We’re currently reading Sadie Robertson’s Live Fearless together in my book club at the nursing home where I serve, and there’s a whole chapter titled “The Purpose of Plankton.” She talks about how she used to think of plankton as the low

By Jessica Breazeale My take on faith, dry seasons and a strange little plant that refuses to stay dead. I heard about a plant that looks absolutely dead but can come back to life. I was greatly intrigued. So, I bought some to test this knowledge. Yes, this plant looks like it belongs in the trash. Curled up, brown, brittle…the kind of thing you'd sweep off your porch without a second thought. It's called the Rose of Jericho. Most people know it by a better name: the Resurrec

By Jessica Breazeale Kids enjoying cornhole I stood in Wesson Park and watched something beautiful happen on Saturday. The sky didn't cooperate. The weather had every reason to keep folks home. But instead, our community showed up anyway, and that, right there, told me everything I need to know about the kind of town I get to call home. We gathered to celebrate America's 250th birthday, and there was just something absolutely fitting about doing it in the rain. Nothing worth

By Jessica Breazeale Pitcher Plant I first learned of this predatory plant when one was for sale at the Garden Club booth during Wesson Founder’s Day several years ago. I was so intrigued that I’d never heard of this plant and that it could look so otherworldly. This is a carnivorous plant that attracts small bugs, luring them in with its sweet fragrance, sugary nectar, and bright colors. Once the small insects get inside, they can’t get out because of the plant’s sticky subs