Editor’s Column

Elizabeth Hudson-purple

From Scratch

This February issue is special to us. In our own expression of love for North Carolina, we created five original cakes that, to our knowledge, don’t exist anywhere outside the pages of this magazine.
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Elizabeth Hudson-purple

January Snow

Some people look at snow and see all of its pitfalls: its potential for destruction, its hazards and dangers, its ability to bring small towns to their knees. Some people look at snow and see all its beauty and how it covers all the imperfections in a landscape.
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Elizabeth Hudson-purple

Christmas Magic

Christmas came to my house on December 1, the day my mom hung the Advent calendar on the closet door in the hallway. For the next 24 days, I unwrapped the tiny presents that appeared in the little pockets. The
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Elizabeth Hudson-purple

Fall Back

For 17 days in autumn, I sat in the waiting room of the surgical ICU at Moses Cone Hospital in Greensboro while my dad lay in a hospital bed, intubated with a ventilator, a machine breathing for him. It was
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Elizabeth Hudson-purple

To Everything, a Season

On the first Friday night in October — the eve of the Asheboro Fall Festival — about a dozen men from the Randolph Cattlemen’s Association hauled their blackened barbecue smokers up a grassy hill across from the courthouse and set
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Elizabeth Hudson-purple

Friday Night Fish Fry

To get to Little Texas Fish Camp from my house in Randolph County, you had to cross a one-lane bridge that ran beside a dam. The bridge was past the round of a curve, and it was tricky business to
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Elizabeth Hudson

Southern Storms

My grandmother always knew when a storm was coming. If we had the windows open in the house, or if we were out in the yard digging in her garden, she would smell it first. “It’s going to come up
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Elizabeth Hudson

A good year for peaches

Before I came along, and before my parents opened their small business and got busy with the routine of building a life and a home, they were just two people in love. Their first date was at a pizza place
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Elizabeth Hudson

The long way home

I remember the summer my dad came home with his new truck, a red pickup. We had just moved from town, from a house that was right behind the courthouse in Asheboro, to the country, to a house that was
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Elizabeth Hudson-purple

Who Speaks for the Coast?

There’s a line in Associate Editor Michael Graff’s story about the wild horses on the Outer Banks that I can’t get out of my head: “The horse didn’t put that beer can there.” There’s no denying that. Drive along N.C.
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