The time has come to start my new blog to coincide with my new life. I must laugh. Actually it is just changes in my same life!
Put it on your desktop or in favorites if you like. I am having a little trouble with the layout/format but I will keep working on it.
Love to all!
Tuesday, July 30, 2013
In this cute, out of the way restaurant on CB Hwy, Fish Bites. This is the view from my booth. A frosted case of cheesecakes is actually the big blue thing, but I didn't dare take another pic. I ordered something I had to ask how to pronounce, sriracha shrimp. The cute server with the curly hair just brought it so I'm diving in.
Monday, July 29, 2013
According to my thinking, one important thing to do when one moves to a new place is to join the library as I did last week. Being in this temporary setting and without obligations gives me time to get into a good book. So after the trial period to prove my trustworthiness by checking out and returning two, I am over half way through with my next, one that I grabbed off the shelf at closing time because I liked the cover. Sometimes I like the insight and wisdom of writers as they tell about their characters, which I am sure are facts they have discovered about themselves. This quote spoke to the girl/woman I am. "...you are a girl as long as you allow life to happen to you. You become a woman when you start living according to your own instincts, intelligence and desires. You're a woman when you take hold of yourself." From the mind and pen of Natalie Brown in her first novel "Lovebird."
Sunday, July 28, 2013
So far, Wilmington is even better than I imagined. Perhaps next week when the closing of the Greenville house finally takes place, and I pray it will, I will begin my new blog about being back at home in this sunny little Southern city near the Atlantic Ocean. But for today, I will just tell you about returning to the church of my early childhood. It is First Baptist with the tall copper steeple that still reaches to the sky and the ancient doors where we greeted Mr. Gregory before leaving for home at noon. Probably my daddy had something funny to say to him. For decades I have wanted to sit inside that church again, to revisit that part of my life, to see the massive pipe organ, to walk through those doors. I was not disappointed. Although it seemed smaller now that I am bigger, it was not so different from my memory, and I felt gratitude for the ones who maintained its architectural and historical integrity. The first hymn of the morning was the old favorite Holy, Holy, Holy. I thought how the first time I probably ever heard it was right there, sitting between my mommy and daddy, listening to them sing. I was a squirmy child during sermons though, but my daddy wisely kept me quietly occupied by playing with my fingers and letting me twist and tug his. When today's service was over, I waited by the big, dark doors to greet the current pastor, a really nice fellow. I told him how I went there when I was a child, and I felt quite small as the words came out.