My youngest daughter and I went on an excursion after school today.
Her honors English class requires each student to experience three cultural events.
Each has to be viewed…and then written about.

Ideas are given as possible choices…or you can choose something yourself.
Two of her three choices will be something that interests her.
The one we went to today was on the list of suggestions.
It intrigued her.

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We all know the feeling.
We tryout for a sport team…or a high school production.
The list is posted on a bulletin board where everyone can see.
First cuts…second cuts…final cuts.

You search frantically to see if your name is on the list.
You forget for a minute, if M comes before N, as you nervously scroll down the page.

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Years ago, when our children were little, we had taken a family vacation to Cape Cod.
We rented a wonderful house situated almost equidistant from the bay and the ocean.
The owners had such lovely taste in their decorating…homey, comfortable, welcoming.
I remember one thing in particular…a bowl of stones!

Stones of deep gray and black…worn smooth from being near the shoreline.
I sat there with the youngest of my children and we played with the stones.
It was mesmerizing…running your fingers over the smooth surface.
In fact, one stone had an indentation that fit my thumb perfectly.

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I love pretzels.
I do not have a sweet tooth.
I can pass by desserts without batting an eye.

Late in the afternoon, I love to have my homemade iced tea and a sourdough pretzel.
I can have just one…well…maybe two!

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Rally Day.
A day set aside each year at our church.
The day the summer ministries end and the fall ministries begin.
It always culminates with a picnic after church services.

It is so wonderful for the church family to celebrate together.
Meal fellowship.
Something very important to God.

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My aunt worked her entire life and never married.
She was a fine secretary and met many influential people.
She was just Aunt Cass to me.

How I wish I could sit over a cup of tea and hear some of the old stories again.
I would now bring the wisdom of my years to our conversation.
I would ask questions that I never thought to ask in my youth.

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Oh how I love writing these posts each day!
It is hard to believe that the first post was published in March.

I am so grateful to my daughter, who designed this site, and who does all the back end things that need to be done.
She is a good teacher since I am capable of handling much of this myself now.

But every once in a while, my lack of expertise is quite evident.

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It’s hot!
We have had minimal rain this summer, over ninety degree days, high humidity.
I am not a fan of hot weather.

I have always liked crisp fall days…even cold winter days.
Snow on the ground…fire in the fireplace…hot cup of tea…good book to read.

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Empty.
We have negative connotations connected to that word.
The glass half empty describes a pessimistic view of the world.

The primary definition of empty is…containing nothing; not filled or occupied.

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My youngest daughter and I were watching an episode of Christy, based on the Catherine Marshall book.
It is the story of Christy, a city girl from Asheville, who goes to the back woods of Tennessee to teach in a mission school.
The stories are wonderful as Christy adjusts to life there…as she learns from the children.

A young girl named Ruby Mae, who helps at the mission, was being teased mercilessly for her appearance and her personal hygiene.

A wonderful dialogue happened between Miss Ida, the pastor’s sister who cooks and serves at the mission, and Ruby Mae.

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