By Mary Ann Ellis
It’s just around the corner and I can hardly wait. I have my sister on standby. We always go together. Of course I’m talking about the play. You know, In the Pines. It comes around every year about this time when the leaves turn gold and brown and a brisk wind whirls through them. You notice I didn’t say a thing about that brisk wind being cool. Production is in its 3rd year and shows no signs of slowing down. After all, it’s new every year, even though the story is as old as our ancestors’ stories. So many of you have told me how much you enjoy the performances, which take us straight back to our pasts. Some of those stories leave us sad, but most of them leave us laughing. As I sit and watch the performers bring each saga to life on stage, I travel back in time to a slower, gentler (most of the time) era when people sat on front porches and sang or gathered around the fireplace or Grandma’s country table every week to enjoy her good food and each other’s company.
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