This was a quiet day here on the farm, though it began with the phone ringing me out of my slumber. After making coffee I retrieved the phone message, and then heard the soft “ding” that announced a text message’s arrival on my smartphone. A blinking light let me know I had emails waiting, too. When I looked closer at the rectangular screen a locket-size circle bearing a friend’s face signaled that she had sent a Facebook message.
In April 2009, Helena Safron, a graduate student at UNC, was riding her bicycle on Dairyland Road. Behind her, Mary Council was driving her car. Council saw Safron ahead of her, so she slowed down, and then pulled into the left lane to pass Safron. While she was passing Safron at about 30 miles per hour, her passenger-side mirror struck Safron. They both stopped. Council offered Safron a ride, but Safron declined, and told Council she could leave.
Q. My 7-year-old child had not had a seizure in four years. Her epilepsy has been controlled with Keppra and the ketogenic diet. Recently, she was switched to levetiracetam, the generic form of Keppra, and now the seizures have returned. ... How can I get the pharmacy to dispense name-brand Keppra?
I’ve found myself in the predictable position of having a knee that no longer feels the need to work. It won’t open all the way. It won’t close all the way. And, I don’t blame it. It’s been through hell with me for 50-plus years, and it’s no surprise that all it wants to do now is sit around and eat bonbons all day.
When Shannon Fox and her husband Matt first viewed the property that would become their home, both agreed the serenity of the place screamed wedding-venue.
Q. I was recently prescribed tramadol for pain from a bad hip. (There is probably surgery in my future.) I ended up with hallucinations. Ghostlike people were floating along next to my shoulder.
During this busy holiday season sometimes recycling takes a back seat to other more important activities, but at Orange County Solid Waste, we want you to think of what to do with all that leftover recyclable holiday packaging, cans and bottles.
According to the N.C. Court of Appeals, the facts in the case of the State of North Carolina Vs. Gerberding are these:
In December 2012 Nester Gerberding and her brother Kevin lived together in a home in Durham with Tank, a pit bull dog.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to one and all...well, not really one and all, since at this moment I hate whoever invented technology. Who was it? Because, seriously, I want to hunt them down — Bill Gates, that Zuckerberg guy, Al Gore? No matter, I hate them all.
Q. I have bowel movements that are so large, they clog the toilet. I am not constipated and eat my share of fruits and vegetables. This is not a big deal at home, since I have a plunger in the bathroom to deal with the plumbing problem.
We hope that by now you’ve heard that there is increasing concern about income disparities and poverty in Orange County, and particularly about its impact on children. We all want to live in a community where every child has the opportunity to thrive in school and beyond because successful, supported children grow up to be successful and give back to their family, workplace, and community. As a physician and a lawyer, we have witnessed firsthand the challenges children and families face in Orange County as they struggle with living paycheck to paycheck.
For some people in Hillsborough, the bell in the historic St. Matthew’s Episcopal Church rings a little more poignantly these days thanks to a chance meeting between a prominent retired businessman who lives at Governors Club, and an Orange County poet.
I love being a teacher. Well, not every second of every day, but still, I mostly love being a teacher. One of the biggest reasons is the week before Christmas break. This week, in any school, is just such a trip. All of a sudden, there is spasmodic giggling and unrest in the classroom, whining in the office, and a general who-gives-a-partridge-in-a-pear-tree attitude towards work of any kind. And, the students are almost as bad.
Inside the middle bay of the once-upon-a-time service station at 212 North Churton Street, between Tryon and Queen streets, Tricia Arriagada, is training a client to be more physically fit.
When I wake in the morning I lift my head to peer out the bedroom window across the room. What I look for is Peter’s red truck. Most mornings he is up before me, has started the coffee, and made the short trip up our long driveway to get his beloved newspaper. Some mornings he leaves early to eat breakfast out. Though I am a person who loves solitude, I am always disappointed when the truck isn’t there.