It has come to my attention that some people on our website believe my column to be insipid, silly tripe.

That hurts.

My first inclination was not to respond to such nastiness. I thought to myself, “Why don’t these folks simply quit reading my column, and do something with that five minutes they might deem more valuable?”

One gripe in particular is that on the “opinion” page, they want to see opinions about issues in the community. OK, I hear ya. When there is an issue in the community that moves me to have an opinion, I might just share it with you in this space, and have on many occasions.

But, when you have to crank one of these columns out per week, whether you have something profound to say or not, it puts a strain on the creative juices.

Too, on several occasions when I’ve weighed in on one issue or another, the backlash from folks who don’t agree, or who plainly didn’t even get what I was saying, hardly makes it worth it.

You can call it “playing it safe” if you want. That’s exactly what I’m doing some weeks. It’s much safer to write about what my kids are up to, what new things I’ve learned from marriage, or the dynamics here in the newsroom than to force an opinion I don’t have, or air one I’d rather keep private.

Besides, opinions are like armpits (or insert whatever word you’d like here) — everybody’s got ’em. I’m not so arrogant to believe that anyone else cares what I think on any particular issue.

So — yes, I am being paid to write one of these a week. Yes, most of the time I enjoy doing it. If you don’t like it — quit reading it.


I had my first-ever camping experience opening weekend of deer season. Since my man went on ahead, I drove to East Texas to the deer lease alone, and thoroughly enjoyed the beautiful leaves and scenery on my drive, singing at the top of my lungs to Bad Company, George Strait, and Van Halen (the music tastes are varied). John Paul’s directions were impeccable, and I arrived at my destination no problem.

As soon as I arrived, we loaded up chairs, drinks, and “the gun” and went on a long, uphill hike to the deer blind he’d fashioned earlier that day, with only one deep cut in his hand. We watched the sun set while the mosquitos threatened to carry us off, and never saw a single deer.

Decided that evening to venture to Wal-Mart and purchase an air mattress, since the bed in the Ramblette was less than desirable. My husband rustled up an excellent dinner of chicken stuffed with crawfish etoufee, accompanied by potato salad. We slept in the camper with all the doors and windows open, enjoying the only cool air we would have that weekend.

The next day, while JP was perched on the camp toilet throne in the camper, I yelled, “Look! A deer!” which cause him to whirl and look behind him, nearly upsetting his perch. I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. Naturally, we saw not one deer the entire weekend.

When I departed Sunday to return home, leaving him behind, he asked if I would ever return.

“Only if it’s cold — and you give that camper a good cleaning.”

Happy hunting.


Deanna Plemons is a Daily Sun staff writer. Her column appears Sundays. She may be reached via e-mail at

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