Anastasia Scarborough

There is a superstition in our family. As my Mama laughingly describes it: 'We Harbucks all 'band together' for our birthdays.' It's true.

For the past eight years almost everyone in our family has referred to my daughter as 'Baby.' And is it any wonder? Rebekah is an only child and the sole grandchild on my side of the family. So when somebody says 'the baby' it isn't exactly a mystery as to who they're talking about.

I guess all kids love to hear the story of their birth. After all, it's the tale in which they're the star attraction. My daughter certainly loves to hear about her entrance into the world. She makes me tell it to her practically every night as a bedtime story.

'If you want it to be known, just tell Miss Molly - or any other of these 'walking newspapers!'' My Mama always gave this advice - or some might call it a warning - back when I was a little girl growing up in Nitrate City, Alabama. She was referring to a lady known as 'Miss Molly,' a part-time clerk at the local corner store and a full-time neighborhood gossip. Well, to call Miss Molly a gossip is kind of an understatement, because when Mama called her a 'walking newspaper,' she wasn't exaggerating.

Daddy’s Stories A couple days ago I had a conversation with my seven-year-old over supper. She didn't want to eat what was on her plate.

By Anastasia Scarborough My Daddy always said: 'There isn't anything the humble dumplin' can't do! It can give you breakfast, dinner and dessert and then give you a pet name for your best sweetheart too.' Daddy always called me his 'dumplin'.' I call my own daughter that same pet name, but not just because she's my sweetheart. I have never met anyone who loves dumplings more than Rebekah does.

I walk into Mama's house and the odor hits me like a giant invisible wall. The spicy aroma of pickling syrup fills my nose like a sneeze. My eyes water, but in the best way. This is the smell of the summer. And every available surface of Mama's kitchen covered in tubs of cucumbers pickling in brine is a sight August would not be complete without.