Howdy, y'all! This blogger spot had me locked out for a while, but I'm back now. Something about passwords and authentication. My middle daughter Mace finally took care of it. I told her to tell those folks down at the Hotmail factory I'm a Florida native, and as authentic as they come. ''Tell them I resent the implication,'' I told Mace. She said the tech support people could not give one -- or zero -- about what I do or do not resent.

Anyhoo, you may have heard the big news: That snippy author Deborah Sharp made a visit this week to the Today Show in New York City. As much as it pains me to say it, she didn't take my fashion advice ... and it turned out all right. I was lobbying pretty hard for her to wear something in the sherbet-colored spectrum. Lord knows that palette's worked for me. But she listened instead to some salesgirl at the Dillard's in Fort Lauderdale. It's no surprise our Ms. Fancy Pants Author would choose a swanky department store over Himmarshee's very own Home on the Range Feed Store and Clothing Emporium, is it?

Anyway, here's a picture Mace snapped off the TV of her in that pretty royal blue sweater:

I'm big enough to admit it works. Now that her hair's going gray, that wintry blue is a fine color choice. But don't get me started on how I feel about her opting for the natural look, hair-wise. Betty Taylor, the owner of Hair Today, Dyed Tomorrow Beauty Parlor, could take 10 years off her look if she'd just sit down for a little highlight and tint.

Did you happen to see her interview? When that nice Savannah Guthrie asked her how many times I'd been married, she made a big show of counting out all five times on her fingers. I've never thought someone else's unfortunate marital history should be the source of a cheap joke, have you?

You can watch a clip of Ms. Fancy Pants on TV by clicking here. Maybe if she ever gets invited back up to New York City, she'll ask me along for the interview. After all, I'm only the one who's lived the stories she writes down in those books of hers. Not that I'm bitter, understand. Bitterness is just as unbecoming as failing to give credit where it's due. That's a little bit of advice, courtesy of Mama. Hopefully, it won't fall on deaf ears.