“You are not going out with that boy unless his parents are driving and that's that. I'm not just Spitting Grits here, young lady!”

. . . My father, John Thomas Cravey, USAF, to me in 1956.

About the Blogette


After retiring from a twenty-five-year career at The University of Alabama, I quickly unretired. My professional experience included working as a senior writer/editor in the Office of University Relations, manager of communications in the Office of Educational Development, adjunct English instructor of composition and literature, and freelance writer.
As an unretiree, I and my husband of 40 years-plus are parenting grandparents of our (now) six-year-old granddaughter whom we have formally adopted. Reasons you might expect required our becoming parenting grandparents: our daughter’s unrelenting drug addictions, the situation that motivated my decision to begin my blog, Spittin’ Grits.
Two circumstances built the framework of my life: First, I grew up a military brat in the U.S. Air Force. That lifestyle widened my view and broadened my understanding. My father flew P-51 Mustangs in World War II. He was shot down over the Alps, survived, was captured and taken to a POW camp in Germany. He remained in the U.S.A.F. as a career officer. His influence on me is immeasurable.
Second, I spent my formative high school years in Anchorage, Alaska where my father was stationed; I graduated from Anchorage High School in 1961. Alaska is oversized, outrageous, and above all, spiritual. The AHS class of ’61 held its 50th reunion in 2011. A 50th reunion seems over the top, but I was there.

I welcome comments. Please keep them civil, short and to the point. Obscene, profane, abusive and off-topic comments will be deleted. Repeat offenders will be blocked. Thanks for abiding by these rules and for taking part.

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