A new study in the Journal of Public Health indicates that adolescents who experience back pain more frequently are also more likely to smoke cigarettes, drink alcohol, and report problems like anxiety and depression.
During adolescence, the prevalence of musculoskeletal pain (pain arising from the bones, joints or muscles) in general, and back pain in particular rises steeply. Although often dismissed as trivial and fleeting, adolescent back pain is responsible for substantial health care use, school absence, and interference with day-to-day activities in some children.
When the forest is laid bare each winter there is a tendency to think of it as a bleak and dreary place. But the basic structural skeleton of each tree can be seen at this time, with every branch, twig, and bud visible, thus revealing how it has grown in the past, and how it has prepared for the future. So put on a coat, go outside and go look at a tree.
I like cabbage just about any way you fix it. Stuffed cabbage is my favorite, with cole slaw a close second. That said, there was often more cabbage in the garden than I could use. Those heads were wrapped in newspaper and hid away until December or so. That is when Scalloped Cabbage entered the picture.
Sweet Southern Tumbling and Cheer is getting a new front entrance with a set of double glass doors and glass panels on each side with a transom above. Coming soon is a beautiful new canopy and a new sidewalk.
Owner Breann Welch of Sweet Southern Tumbling is entering her third year of providing a great place of fun for kids where they can build self confidence as they learn and make new friends.
As part of a new series called: Things That Make You Go H’mmm!
“Now the birth of Jesus Christ was on this wise: When as his mother Mary was espoused to Joseph, before they came together, she was found with child of the Holy Ghost.”
A good friend of mine recently asked me a question about “The Nativity” or birth of Jesus Christ. A question which I had never fully considered. Actually, it is a two-parter. Here is the question:
The lights in the sanctuary are turned off and it is very dark for a few seconds. Tripp tugs on Timmy’s jacket. He moves Tripp up to sit on his shoulder, close to his ear.
After a few songs, Timmy whispers to Tripp, “You’re a very good singer. Did the Big Guy teach you that?”
“No,” Tripp whispers back. “It just comes natural because we sing to him all the time.”
“Then how do you have time to make all those toys if you’re singing?” Timmy asks.
“That’s because I have never made a toy, but I was at the very first Christmas,” Tripp answers.
This is a Christmas card my father received near the beginning of the last century. It was addressed to Master Owen Stimer. That was the way a young boy was addressed back then. It was a more formal time. Postal cards were sent rather than the folded cards we receive now. I have an album full of such cards. This card cost 1 cent for domestic delivery and 2 cents for foreign delivery.
My mother, who was born in 1914, grew up on a farm in Union County, Tennessee. Raising a family and making a life out of the rocky red dirt was never easy, but both my mother and my grandmother were always proud to declare that they always had enough to eat even though in other parts of the United States, people were standing in lines at soup kitchens or choking on dust or hurling themselves out of windows. My mother reminded me countless times that in those days a dime was a lot of money.
“But what was Christmas like?” I would ask.
“Wow! Look at this!” I tossed it in my shopping cart. Then, I walked further down the aisle. “Another pretty one.” I tossed it in, too.
I can’t help myself. I simply cannot pass by a display full of Christmas wrapping paper without stopping and admiring all of them. To me they are mesmerizing. After all, each one is a unique piece of art that needs to be appreciated.
Year One, Week Forty-Nine
How many kids do you know who would like to have a file cabinet? You are reading the writing right now of a former child who not only wanted but craved one.
Of course, I wanted a file cabinet to complement my fantasy school teaching life. And when I got it, it was a doozy!
Are you having ham for Christmas dinner? In our house, that feast is too close to Thanksgiving Day to have turkey again. We only like so much. A couple days of second-day turkey dishes and we are over it.
Anyway, turkey is a lot of work to prepare. There are a lot of ham recipes that don't take much time. With so many things to do on Christmas Day, roasting a turkey is not on my agenda. Opening presents is number one on my mind for Christmas morning.
Not really. This is the time of the year when we attend Christmas parties at church, at work and among family and friends. It's party time! After New Years Eve we are all partied out. That's when the bills start rolling in. So while we can, let's look at some recipes to enjoy. I like cheese balls and such. They can be made ahead of time, stored in the fridge and brought out a half hour or so before the first guests arrive.
The Union County Board of Education met in regular session on Thursday, December 13, in the library of Union County High School. Marty Gibbs from district one conducted the meeting. Others present were Danny Wayne Collins (district five), Andrew Reed (district six), and Casey Moore (district three).
“Here you go.” Timmy lays his red and green house shoe down on his bed in front of Tripp.
“This will be a comfortable bed for you.” He pushes down inside it with his finger. “See? It has a thick foam insole.”
Tripp looks up to Timmy and raises an eyebrow. “You want me to sleep in your stinky house shoe?”
“It’s not stinky!” Timmy protests. “My Mamaw gave them to me last year and I only wore them when she was here.”
Tripp pulls glitter out of his pocket and sprinkles it inside the house shoe. “Just in case.”
“Very funny. Now hop in the shoe please.”
Year One, Week Forty-Eight
It was forty years ago this very month that I received a Christmas gift that I would even now not trade for thousands of dollars.
I’m not even sure how it came about, but somehow my mother began saving S & H green stamps. At some point Hensley’s IGA must have issued them, for I don’t remember my mother ever shopping anywhere else. Perhaps she had my sister Anna Mae, my brother Jerry, or Cousin Lizzie Norton get them for her, as they lived and shopped in Knoxville.