Random Connect Points:
Reba's Stories

Now that I've been away from a traditional work environment for a few months, I've found a few things I'm missing … quick IT support, a dependable printer for my computer, impromptu brainstorming meetings, and word nerd colleagues down the hall who will debate grammar usage rules, share typos from major newspapers or debate the new changes in the AP Style Guide. This summer, I've had to amuse myself with some of my own fixes to get the word nerd connections I've been missing. For the first time in my career, I bought my own new AP Style Guide and even subscribed to the online version. I re-read "Bird by Bird" and a number of my other favorite books on writing included in this earlier blog post  and revisited this post on my grammatical pets peeves . Next week, I will be getting back to a different kind of writing I've missed in recent years as I start on a new career adventure as an adjunct instructor in the School of Journalism and Mass Communic

I'm an evangelist for the handwritten note...whether it's a thank-you note or a newsy few lines just to say "hi" to someone. I love to write them, and I love to get them. When a handwritten note from a young friend landed in my mailbox this week, I danced a little jig. I knew who it was from by the handwriting. I knew it would hold something interesting. And it did. It also reminded me to go back and read a blog post I'd written six years ago when I had gotten a similar note from the same young friend. She had taken on the practice of writing a note a day during one of her early years out of college. I was flattered to receive several of them over the course of the year - not knowing at that point of her plan. Her note this week and this archived post from Random Connect Points reminded me to pull out my pretty box of notes and get writing! Maybe it will inspire you too! Thanks JessicaPhillips Tyson for the nudge. During August, I'll

I’ve wanted to be a writer for as long as I can remember. I attempted to publish a neighborhood magazine in the fourth grade. I wrote for the high school paper. I went to college thinking I wanted to be a newspaper reporter. I won a VFW essay writing contest in the fifth grade. I’ve always loved to write letters. But I’ve always struggled with exactly what it means to be a writer. Can you officially be a writer just because you write? How many published books, poems, magazine articles or songs does it take to officially be a writer? What makes someone fit the definition of a writer? And who is the keeper of that definition, anyway? Merriam Webster? Anne Lamott? Mrs. Hanna, my eighth grade English teacher? How is questioning whether I can be called a writer just because I write any different from questioning if I can I be called a musician because I play music? Or can I be labeled a gardener because I have a straggly herb garden? Can I be described as a cook because I make killer l

Rarely does a book appeal to all my “reading” senses – well written, important message, compelling story and human connections. “Grace Will Lead Us Home” about the shootings at Mother Emanuel A.M.E. Church is one of them. I recently listened to an interview on the SC Lede podcast on SC Public Radio with the author of the book, Jennifer Berry Hawes . She’s a reporter for the Post and Courier who witnessed first-hand many of the details surrounding this tragedy. After hearing Hawes’ podcast interview, I knew I had to read this book. And I knew I had to buy it and not just borrow it from the library or listen on Audible. I had a feeling it would be one of those books I’d want to mark up and re-read. For anyone who thinks they have an understanding of the circumstances, the emotions, the complexities or the passions surrounding the shooting, the trial and the its aftershocks, this book illustrates there’s far more to this story than just an accounting of events in a series of

How many times have you ridden by this tree at that funny little triangular intersection of Millwood and Butler near the Mad Platter? There’s a lovely oak tree planted in the center surrounded by various plants kept up by the City of Columbia. There’s also a plaque dedicated to the memory of those who died 25 years ago today in the crash of a US Air jet en route from Columbia to Charlotte.   Of the 57 people on the plane, 37 died. One was our friend, Gaines Jontz. He was one of the first friends we made when we moved to Columbia in 1993. A talented architect with a quick wit and generous heart, Gaines brought many into his circle of friends. Our friendship with Gaines is one of those random connect points in life that lasts a lifetime. I am so grateful that, thanks to the web of connections he left behind, so many of these friendships remain. He brought people together in his life and has continued to do so even after he died. Because of Gaines, our dear friends Rob and Irene Ty

Every year on May 23, I have a little personal celebration to observe my "adultiversary" - the first day at my first "real life" job  – the receptionist to a freshman Congressman on Capitol Hill.  Back on my 30th “adultiversary,” I wrote this essay for a national trade magazine about 20 pieces of advice for young professionals. I always like to go back and revisit these each year on May 23 to see what I’d add to the list (the farewell post I wrote in December when I retired expands on a number of these). But now that I’ve taken on the new role as a “rookie retiree,” I have a little different perspective on life lessons that have emerged without the constraints, labels and stresses of the daily work grind. As I've tried to live out my goal of spending money on experiences rather than things in my new world order, I've discovered a few new truths. 1 – It’s OK to be a beginner. I wrote about this earlier this year, but this revelation makes me re

Flossie and me leaving PetsInc It’s National Rescue Dog Day, and I hit the jackpot back in September when I adopted Flossie, a medium-sized lab-ish beauty. Here’s our story. During Hurricane Florence, I went to PetsInc to walk some of the dogs that had been evacuated from a shelter along the coast. I’d done this before during an earlier hurricane and saw that I could fill a short-term need they had at the shelter. My beloved golden retriever, Dixie, had died about nine months earlier, and I was in the early stages of debating if it was time to start looking for another dog - a golden for sure ( read that post here ). Since I was set on a golden - and figured it was pretty unlikely to find exactly what I was looking for that day – I wasn’t too worried about being tempted to bring a dog home. I walked 15 or so dogs of all shapes and sizes in the drizzle on a nice wooded path area behind PetsINc. They each got a little loving, a few loops around the path and plenty of time t