My Mom and a Famous Writer

This week, my mom celebrated a birthday. I am legally not allowed to tell you her age. She is at heart, a Southern Woman. The kind with ideas about how to iron things, fry a chicken, make biscuits, what comprises proper undergarments, and one who is in a constant state of apoplexy about my chewed up nails. I remember her telling me once that with the right manicure a woman can accomplish anything. There is something to that, I think. The idea that a woman’s power isn’t devoid of her femininity but, rather, her embrace of it. That said, I haven’t gotten a manicure in 11 years.

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