Cheap, disposable Kodak cameras were a staple of my childhood. I remember toting one around summer camp every year. I snapped photos with zero regard for composition, lighting, or anything beyond the word “cheese.” I loved the flash bulb’s whine and the clicking scroll wheel. Just as addictive was the anticipation of the developed photo: Thumbing through a freshly printed envelope of pictures was like reliving the entire week...

This month, I took my first vacation in three years and visited Georgia with my mom. Now it’s my turn to write a column, so I’ll take a stab at travel writing for a completely biased review of a few of Savannah and Tybee Island’s many, many attractions...

“Spend less time on your phone” is good advice. Unfortunately, it doesn’t tell you what to do with your time, attention and boredom instead. We can complain about decreasing attention spans, but honestly, mine was minimal even before I got Wi-Fi. ...

I’m the primary writer of the Dash to the Past column, where the DAR highlights the top local articles from 50, 75 and 100 years ago. My most frequent reactions to the words of yesteryear are: • Wow, that’s fascinating!...

When the first resolution to expel former-Rep. George Santos failed, I wondered who on earth still wanted this guy around. His Oct. 10 indictment listed 23 counts of identity theft, money laundering, theft of public funds, various frauds and lying to both the House of Representatives and the FEC. He is almost comically corrupt, though the family members whose identities he stole and the campaign donor robbed of $45,000 probably don’t see any humor...

He’s seven feet tall. His eyes glow red. He might have caused the catastrophic collapse of the Silver Bridge into the Ohio River in 1967 — but I love him. I’m referring of course to my favorite cryptid, Mothman. Mothman is the monstrous mascot of Point Pleasant, West Virginia, a place I’ve never visited and have no personal connection to. ...

There’s a difference between knowing you’ve won and actually being handed the prize. I knew for months I was among the four recipients of this year’s Outstanding Young Journalist Award, and I was thrilled, but it was more like knowing a favorite holiday is coming up — great news, but not immediate...

I had the chaotic yet fun privilege of covering Poplar Bluff’s first day of school this week, and that got me thinking about my own early school experiences. It’s amazing how much our early grade school years stick with us — once I found a few memories, more and more popped up...

I want to be right. I certainly don’t want to think about being wrong. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn so easily into spaces that back up my rightness with one-liners and flashy graphics. But lately, those environments are losing their shine — in fact, they look downright grimy...

When I began working at a quilt shop in my hometown, I thought, “This is great — a way to be around art without getting sucked into yet another medium!” A few months later I bought a sewing machine and started quilting classes. That year I made a slightly wonky Christmas table runner for my family, a puff quilt for a best friend’s first baby, and three stuffed foxes for my youngest cousins. ...

Watching refugee caps over the last several years has been depressing. After a steady decline through the 2000s, America lowered the limit of refugees admitted from 85,000 in 2016 to only 18,000 in 2020. I was brought up to believe compassion, justice, and diversity were part of the American identity, so watching this felt like a betrayal...

We’re all thankful for big, good things. For instance: this year I was in two weddings for people I adore, I earned a promotion, and I found money for bills I didn’t expect. These things all made me happy, but if they were the only things I felt thankful for, I wouldn’t be a happy person...

For years I wanted to volunteer at a shelter, but never felt I had the time. That changed earlier this year when I brought a stray kitten to the Animal Welfare Alliance and decided to help them out as I was able — usually for a few hours on the weekends...

It’s been a little over a year since I joined the DAR. Moving to Poplar Bluff was a leap of faith and it has definitely paid off. Today, I am thrilled to announce another step forward in my career as I accept a promotion to assistant editor...

It’s time for a specific flavor palate: rich, sugary, and preferably served in a pastry shell. In other words, pie time! Here’s where our most popular autumn pies came from. Pumpkin pie History.com says pumpkins originated in Central America and traveled to Europe with returning explorers in 1536, where the English promptly wrapped them in pie crust. ...

I don’t have the brainpower to write about any global, national, or local issue whatsoever. Can I just tell you about my cat instead? Imagine, if you will, the softest gray tabby, with dainty white paws and eyes that give Amanda Seyfried a run for her money. She is the sweetest, cuddliest lil button you’ve ever met, who purrs like a jet engine while sleeping in your lap. Her name is quite fittingly “Sugar.”...

I’m genuinely curious, readers: do you regard Southeast Missouri as part of the Midwest or the South? I’m from Illinois, and my first introductions to Southern life were family visits to the Carolinas and college in Tennessee. When I moved to Southeast Missouri I was struck by several Southern traits y’all have, but there’s no consensus on whether we are south enough to be South...

During interviews I sometimes like to say “That’s a great quote!” I do this to let interviewees know I appreciate their insight, to hint I need a second to finish writing before we move on and finally, to watch them panic internally as they try to remember exactly what they said...

Swimming in lakes always gives me a blind feeling because from the surface I can only guess what’s below me. As drought in the Southwest continues sipping away at Lake Mead, Southwesterners seem to have a similar feeling as long submerged towns, vehicles and even bodies are being revealed...

Last week my fellow staff writer Amber Hornbeck used the word “womperlooly,” meaning “something large, crazy and/or messy.” This got the whole office on the topic of regional expressions, to which I added a rural East Central Illinois-ism that I’d only ever heard between June and August and in proximity to corn fields: “I’m sweatin’ like a steam fettah!”...