Bless their hearts and their hemlines

I remember when I was a little girl, my mama told me about my daddy coming home from work with nails stuck in his pants. He’d ripped them at work, but rather than miss a day, he grabbed a handful of nails and “stitched” the tear shut. Problem solved. She said he’d sometimes come home with a rope for a belt or his tool apron hitched up like a fashion statement, just trying to keep his britches where they belonged. Daddy was a workaholic. If something broke, he fixed it. If something ripped, he patched it. Missing work was never...

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