National Public Radio and country music stations eased my way down the road last Sunday from Canton, North Carolina to Cantonment, Florida. When I heard “Everybody’s Talkin’ At Me” on an oldies station in LaGrange, Georgia, I held an election of one and declared it to be the best riding fast on the interstate open road song ever recorded. And when I heard Willie and Toby sing “Beer For My Horses” I broke into a wide grin and laughed out loud.
Since arriving, the time has been more than full in just trying to find the pieces to put them back together. When our builder said everything would be put back just like it was before the house was flooded — he lied!
Then there was the Great Wasp Attack. The poor winged critters were just looking for a nice place to spend the winter. . . but did it have to be in our attic? Two nests in the attic and one in the fireplace. Yesterday morning I staggered out of bed into the living room and onto the porch, barefooted, hoping to catch a blog. Instead, stepped on a dying wasp with one good sting left in him.
Lots of adventures since Sunday: not all ridiculous; some sublime. I’m anxious to get back to reading your blogs and writing. Soon. This is a quick one just so you’ll know I didn’t fall into the Bermuda Triangle.