Aw, another piece of my formative years has gone. I remember a whole lot of Kris Kristofferson music playing in the soundtrack of my youth. I should be happy he stayed with us as long as he did. Farewell to a brilliant singer-songwriter.
We were invited to go to church with my uncle and aunt this morning. They have just found a tiny church kind of out in the boonies where they felt instantly connected, and they wanted us to share their experience. I will admit, the congregation was welcoming, and the message did resonate. And driving past farmland was lovely too. There were a bunch of yellow weedy flowers growing along the sides of the road. There were at least two separate types, and we pulled over at my request to get a picture of some of them. When we were driving fast, we thought they were sunflowers, but when we stopped to look, we were much less confident in what we were seeing.
We had a homemade dinner at my cousin's house. It's almost my uncle's birthday, and they wanted to bring him over for a family meal to mark it. I haven't seen my cousin's youngest son since he was a teenager, and now he is grown and engaged to be married. How does time pass so quickly? While we sat and talked to the family, I spotted an antique rocking chair that was child-sized, for their grandchildren. It wasn't the classic wooden rocker, but an early 20th century upholstered one that is remarkably similar to the full-sized one I have that belonged to my great-grandmother. It was made, or at least reupholstered, in the small north Texas town that our Reynolds clan hails from. It must be a good thing that my uncle took us to church, because oh, forgive me, I covet. So much.
I head home tomorrow. I don't know the plan for the day. By ear, I guess.
No comments:
Post a Comment