Best of the Road Welcome Ceremony on Tuesday, 4th of July Events and Advisories, and new Severe Weather Sirens and Operations.
Rotaries are where four streets intersect and merge into a circle. Motorists drive round and round, just guessing which one has the right of way and trying to figure out how to exit. Some believe this to be the origin of the word roundabout.
Wednesday was a well-planned day. I had a lot to do, most of which involved my being in my car.
First of all, the two local governments that seem to be working most efficiently and with the most careful stewardship of the taxpayers’ money are Fayetteville and Tyrone.
I bet you didn’t know that federal law enforcement officers representing the Department of Education (DOE) can break down your front door if you are suspected of violating the law.
I’m Dixie Dew. If you read my mama’s column weekly then you know that I’m the precious little red-haired dachshund of which she so affectionately writes every week. For the record, and not because I’m a bragger, but I am every bit as cute as she says. If anything, she downplays my cuteness.
As you can see, this has been a very busy year and it is far from over. The city has a lot to do and, to be honest, money along with other issues to resolve.
A political lynching took place at the Peachtree City Council meeting last Thursday.
The Leisure Services Department, frequently called “Recreation,” was eliminated and two prominent recreation managers were shown the door.
The federal Environmental Protection Agency was in Atlanta on May 26 to hold a daylong hearing – one of just three nationwide – on its proposed Maximum Achievable Control Technology (MACT) regulations for utilities.
Our column rotation placed my Father’s Day tribute after the fact this year, but, hey, it’s never too late to salute the dads who are doing a good job with fatherhood, and to challenge all of us to raise our performance even more.
If you are a regular reader of this column or if you happen to know me, you won’t believe what I’m about to tell you. You won’t be surprised that in my home I don’t have cable or satellite television, and I haven’t watched a television series in almost 20 years.
Company is coming and I’m just sitting here looking at a blank screen, wishing something would remind me that I’ve got to get a column or two written before they arrive.
The concrete looked nothing like it was supposed to. The huge, gray pile of dust had the consistency of a cornbread mix gone horribly wrong: no eggs, no crackling, and not enough buttermilk. “That’s too much water,” I protested.