I recently took stock of our craft supply cupboard and realized it’s looking a little paltry.

At one time, I was proud of the run-of-the-mill pipe cleaners, popsicle sticks and multi-colored pom-poms in our craft stash. But that was before a Michaels craft store opened in Waynesville, and now, I find myself wandering the aisles craving must-have craft supplies I was once blissfully ignorant of. 

I credit my older sister with teaching me many of life’s important lessons. Like not wearing white heels after Labor Day, or not mixing gold earrings with a silver necklace.

My kids have been in training all summer for the Haywood County Fair.

They haven’t been raising giant pumpkins nor whipping their dairy cows into shape for the show ring. Nor have they been boning up on their bingo skills, perfecting recipes for the cake walk contest, or even rehearsing comedy routines for the variety show.

The scramble is on across WNC to pack in a few last drops of quality family time before school starts back.

Living within walking distance of the farmers market has lots of perks. For starters, it’s a great excuse when asked, with a tinge of poorly disguised incredulity, “You don’t even grow a few vegetables, not even a couple of tomato plants?”

Sylvia Russell remembers how crucial it was to wear the “right” clothes to school, how the “right” outfit could win the acceptance of peers.

I never realized little old ladies had such sharp elbows, or just how willing they were to use them, until my first experience with the Friends of the Library book sale at the Waynesville library several years ago.

A whirlwind of global cultures, languages, costumes, music and dance has landed in WNC this week. The annual arrival of the Folkmoot international music and dance festival is a welcome respite from the mid-summer doldrums. 

Ever since we splurged on a $2.99 plastic magician’s wand at Santa’s Land last year, my daughter has treated us to the occasional magic show in the living room. They are 90 percent theatrics, and 10 percent tricks. 

My husband is from South Carolina — the state where you don’t have to wear helmets on a motorcycle and you can detonate a backyard fireworks’ show packing enough TNT to last Wile E. Coyote for a lifetime.