Dogwood Girl

I'm Annie; I'm a mom, wife, daughter, sister. I was born and raised in Atlanta, Georgia, attended the University of Georgia, and became a Technical Writer. I write fiction on the side, including lots of unread, unfinished, and unpublished short stories. I enjoy writing, but haven't gotten around to feeling comfortable with others reading my work yet. Dogwood Girl is part of my working on that fear. I run, but not very fast. It doesn't matter, as running is more of a means to keep my spirits high and those around me alive and well - Without endorphins, i would be on the National News. I have trouble following through on things. I like to grow things. I like puzzles and games. I like to challenge myself, and my problem with challenges is usually my follow through. I am ultra-competitive and will wager small amounts on just about anything. I love to win, but i am no sore loser. I have days where i think i am an awesome mom, and days where i think I am completely fucking my children up. Likewise, i have days where i feel motivated and successful, a modern day Superwoman, and other days, where I feel about as motivated as the Brad Pitt character in True Romance. My husband is my best friend and I would be a basket case without him; My kids have taught me more about myself (and about patience) in five years than I have learned in the whole rest of my life. They are my pride and joy, my heart, and often a royal pain in my ass. I would die without them and their father. I also have a slightly unnatural attachment to my dog, the Q-Man. I write about all of it here on Dogwood Girl. It's cheaper than a therapist.

That Time I Tried to Explain Strip Clubs to My Sixth Grader Over Dinner

I know I already posted the snake thing, but this requires it’s own discussion, because kids starting middle school is like some kind of hyperspace/warp speed shit. . . all of a sudden all this kind of serious stuff starts whipping by and it’s all a blur. Dinner table subjects tonight included: – How babies are made – Sperm (with… Read more →

This is my Dad, Cecil Ray Palmer, about 1945 at home at 110 East Henry Street, Savannah, with 1939 Mercury. Dad and my grandmother (born in Clyde, Ga, which is now Ft. Stewart), both pronounced words ending in "oil" as "awl." So, he changes the "awl" in the car, wraps leftovers up in "tin fawl," (not aluminum foil), and goes to a "srimp bawl" (a shrimp boil.) Yep, no "h" in his pronunciation of shrimp. #bshowwetalk

This is my Dad, Cecil Ray Palmer, about 1945 at home at 110 East Henry Street, Savannah, with 1939 Mercury. Dad and my grandmother (born in Clyde, Ga, which is now Ft. Stewart), both pronounced words ending in "oil" as "awl." So, he changes the "awl" in the car, wraps leftovers up in "tin fawl," (not aluminum foil), and goes to a "srimp bawl" (a shrimp boil.) Yep, no "h" in his pronunciation of shrimp. #bshowwetalk