By Margaret Evans, Editor

Lowcountry Weekly has an excellent garden column produced by a rotating team of master gardeners who write as well as they grow things. Do not mistake this for that, nor me for one of them. That column and those writers are entirely out of my league.

By Margaret Evans, Editor

Story of my life, in a nutshell . . . 

            I’m sitting at a red light on Ribaut, listening to two women on NPR discuss President Trump's recent meeting with Congress, which, according to them, has gone awry in typical Trumpian fashion. The NPR women are speaking in quiet, respectful tones and I’m listening closely and diligently – because I care! – when all of a sudden I hear (and actually feel) some loud, familiar music coming up behind me.

By Margaret Evans, Editor

The Friday following Good Friday was a very bad Friday for my family. 

            It started off ho-hum enough, then I got a mid-morning phone call from my sister in Charleston, who’d just had a phone call from my sister in Alabama, saying, “Dad’s collapsed. He’s on his way to the hospital! There’s no pulse and he’s not breathing!”