For my granddaughter’s first birthday, I made her smash cake myself—not because I am a baker (I am not), but because I wanted to do it. I wanted to be the one to create something special just for her, even if it wasn’t perfect. The cake was set in front of a gorgeous Disney-themed backdrop,…
Family & Legacy
Mamaw’s Old Canner
There is something deeply meaningful about holding onto the things that once filled our family kitchens with work, warmth, and provision. This old canner belonged to my Mamaw. When I look at it, I don’t just see a piece of metal—I see a rhythm of life that shaped her days. I can almost imagine the…
Past & Future
There is something especially sweet about remembering my grandson at about a year old—still so small, still discovering the world one curious moment at a time. In this photo, he’s wearing a little cowboy hat that seems almost too big for him, sitting slightly crooked on his head like it has a mind of its…
Crown Failure
There is a kind of childhood moment that doesn’t need staging or perfection to be unforgettable. In this photo, my granddaughter is wearing her princess crown—but it has slipped down just enough to cover her eyes. What was meant to make her feel royal has instead turned into a tiny obstacle, a “crown failure” that…
Why Chicks on the Road Publishing Exists
There are seasons in life when everything feels full—full calendars, full expectations, full identities built around doing and producing. And then there are seasons when something inside begins to shift. This blog and publishing space was born in one of those quieter in-between places, where the question wasn’t “What can I achieve next?” but rather…
Parting is Such Sweet Sorrow
Fall on Lake Gaston always carries a mix of beauty and goodbye. As the air turns crisp and the light softens over Pea Hill Creek, everything begins to slow down in a way that feels both peaceful and a little heavy. The boats are pulled in, the dock is quiet, and the boathouse stands still…
Oh I Wish I Lived in the Land of Cotton
There is a particular kind of stillness in a late fall cotton field in Virginia—especially when the harvest is over and the land has been stripped back to its quiet, resting state. The white remnants of cotton caught in brown stalks feel like memory itself, clinging to what is left of a season that once…
She Thinks It’s Pretty Special
There is something deeply grounding about the idea of hygge—the quiet practice of creating warmth, comfort, and contentment in everyday life. For me, it has become less about how a space looks and more about how it feels. A warm environment is not built through perfection or expensive design; it is created through intention. It…
Footsteps in the Sand
There is something sacred about a shoreline—the way it holds generations at once, quietly reminding us that time is both passing and present in the same breath. In this photograph, it’s just our feet in the sand—my mom, my daughter, and mine—but somehow it holds so much more than that. It holds a lineage of…
We’ll Keep it Running for You, Dad
There’s something special about an old boat that still runs well—not just because of the mechanics, but because of the memories she carries. Our 1987 Sea Ray is one of those treasures. She’s older now, with the kind of character that only time can give, but she still runs beautifully. We take care of her…