I spent my hard earned vacation time and money on a conference this year. You know, one of those where you go to classes and listen to people talk all day.

Boring, right? (don’t leave me now — keep reading)

You will never see this offered on The Price is Right as one of the grand prize packages. Vanna (or whatever the blonde girl’s name is) won’t be standing on the stage rubbing her perfectly manicured fingers over a picture of a conference group, while the voice-over tells the contestants what they’ve won.

Picture it:  the show host says something like this (in his best commentator t.v. voice), “Feast your eyes on this 2016 model conference! It comes complete with writing classes, mentoring, nationally and internationally renowned guest speakers, daily worship sessions, classes taught by award-winning faculty, special friendships you’ll cherish for a lifetime, lodging in comfy rooms and plenty to eat – all at one of the loveliest conference centers in the South!”

If they knew about THIS conference, they would surely offer it as a prize.

An all expense paid trip to the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference (BRMCWC) would make a wonderful game show award — I’d run up on stage dressed as a chicken for it! Actually, I think that’s a whole other show. My point is, if you have the least bit of interest in writing this is the conference for you. They welcome you in, teach you, richly bless you with resources, offer encouragement and then applaud your every writing achievement. And there’s lots of food! (did I say that already?) All you have to do is register (the price can’t be beat), show up and absorb all there is to take in.

That’s not all, folks! Friendships are waiting as soon as you drive onto the Ridgecrest campus. No one stays a stranger for long. I have some treasured friendships and look forward to seeing them every time I go — especially my friends from New York, Cynthia and Dwayne. I’ve had to help them navigate being in the South. Bless their hearts. Everyone is friendly, so lone travelers never eat alone and you will always find a late night group hanging out in the hotel foyer. Simply follow the laughter, hootin’ and hollerin’ down the hallway to one of the lobbies — then settle into a comfy spot on one of the couches or perch on an ottoman and join in the fun!

Did I mention the chocolate macaroons? Oh wonderful, decadent, delightful chocolate macaroons, how we love you! Enough said — I’ll leave it there. You have to go to a conference to find out what that’s all about. If you’ve been to the conference and haven’t had a macaroon, I just don’t know what to say to that.

No matter why you go — the experience will leave you wanting more and probably registering for the next conference before you leave. Come to learn — stay for the fun of it all.

Almost everybody was doing it the day we walked into the corner Roadrunner Market. In fact, the air had kind of a frenzy feel. People weren’t lined out the door or anything, but you could tell — it was on everybody’s mind and hopes were high. The lotto with it’s promised billion dollar prize was the talk of beer joints, gas stations and local grocery stores everywhere … for days. On  a lark, we decided to give it a whirl. I was determined not to spend more than two dollars. It was because of some money I lost on the Kentucky lottery years ago. I decided then that I would sink no more of my hard-earned cash into that bottomless money pit.

My husband had other ideas, though. He got all caught up in the frenzy. Well, actually there were only a couple more customers in the store at the time, but they looked frenzied. We were pretty much creating our own hubbub as he handed the money across the counter. With that, we were the proud owners of 5 lotto tickets. (it was only supposed to be one $2 ticket, but … well…)

Those lovely pieces of colored paper dangled their shiny baubles in front of us, taunting us – visions of big ticket items danced in our heads on the way home. I thought of all the new computer stuff I could buy and the scholarships I could establish at our local university, and made plans to open up my own animal rescue. My husband could just see that shiny, new, metallic blue Chevy truck sitting in the driveway.

We made our way back to the doublewide and put the tickets up. The drawing was scheduled for 11 that night and we promptly fell asleep way before that watching tv.  I think it was a hunting or fishing show. We’re real party animals on lotto night!

Next morning, I woke up to find out we were not the new billionaires in the neighborhood. I don’t think there are any billionaires down this way, but you never know. I really would have done some good with that money. I wished the winners well and hoped they would help feed and clothe the homeless in their communities.

Then I got to thinking (Tennessee way of saying: “I then pondered all of this”). I realized that I can give and help someone else even if I’m not holding a winning ticket. I can use the resources that are already in my hand. It doesn’t even have to be as grand as building a new housing complex for the less fortunate (even though that’s great if you can do that). Something as small as paying for the guy’s coffee sitting behind me in the Dunkin car line counts too. That may not seem like much, but it’s a big deal to the person you’re blessing. Giving comes from the heart — we are never more like God than when we’re giving.  He is the ultimate, abundant giver. If you’re a giver,  then you’ll practice that no matter how much you have or don’t have. (how many times can I insert the word “giver” in one paragraph?! I making a point here.)

I don’t normally make new  year’s resolutions, mostly because I never keep them. But this year, when the calendar flipped over to January 1, 2016 I felt compelled to make a few resolutions. One being — I want to be an even bigger giver than last year (I don’t mean gaining weight from eating more donuts and fried potatoes). My aim this year is to be even more extravagant in my giving. I love it. Being generous surely makes me feel good, but it’s much more than that. I know that I’m helping somebody else, whether it’s a friend who needs cheering up or a complete stranger standing on the corner holding a cardboard sign. I’m also participating in God’s plan for this world when I’m being like Him.

If you want to know the meaning of life — that’s it. To be like Jesus in loving and caring for others and be a willing participant in His plan for all of us.

Ever go to a mobile home lot to tour the doublewides? You should seriously try it sometime. It’s fun, you can pick up some decorating tips and ideas for planning your next house, and you get to eat. It’s a given that you and your pals will go somewhere to eat after the grand tour. Well, yeah. You have to take some good friends to look at the homes – and an outing always involves food. It does in the South. Don’t question the logic.

The lovely, fun, mysterious, quirky, cold, hot, cold and hot at the same time South. I mean, it can be extremely warm in the Deep South in February and as cold as a well digger’s butt in the Tennessee/Virginia/North Carolina area. (we will punch each other out during SEC football season, but don’t mess with us otherwise. We’re all kin)  That’s where you’ll find me. I’m a Tennessee native with deep roots in Virginia and a penchant for North Carolina exploring on the Blue Ridge Parkway. We’re a bit different in this part of the South. Not in a bad way — just different. We’re cornbread and beans and fried baloney sandwiches. On the frying note, you can fry stale Krispy Kreme donuts, too. Oh. My. Goodness. You have to try that — and use butter. That’s another thing to add to the list that everybody doesn’t know about.

I learned how to fry potatoes, stir up a pan of cornbread and grow tomatoes from my momma and my aunts. They taught me the finer points of Southern cooking, including how much lard to melt in the iron skillet before pouring the cornmeal mix in. These women made sure that I knew how to take care of myself and any future family I might have. I’ve done pretty well with that, except I’ve pretty much abandoned lard for healthier cooking oils. They got a little worried when my early twenties rolled around and I wasn’t sporting a diamond and asking them to make my wedding cake. All was not lost though — I was just a late bloomer (after carrying me for “almost 10 months”, my mother declared that “I was late getting into this world and I’d been late ever since”). I caught a man at 29. Glory be.

After living in a rented house for the first five years of wedded bliss, said man and I decided to get a little piece of property out in the country and set a doublewide on it. That was almost 20 years ago and I have acquired quite a bit of knowledge during that time. It could be the influence of my doublewide or it could be the fact that the world has lost a lot of the sense God gave it to start with. Whatever the reason, I have decided that living in a mobile home can give you a different perspective on the world. So, Wisdom from the Doublewide was born. I hope you enjoy my blog and my new website: doublewide wisdom.com