Wednesday, August 26, 2015

Without permission...

In keeping with emotions that have been resurrected this week I am porsting an email that I received from my sister today. My Dad always said it was easier to ask for forgiveness than permission. 

So, Sister, please forgive me...


"Thanks for your blog, I am just catching up on it today.  I awakened this morning (this week), thinking of Granny, Katrina, Dad, Uncle Dick, walking down the day lily lane that was so shady and lush.  Two-bits earned, the Baby Doll, running around the circles of boxwood, posing against the azaleas/camellias for a photograph, watermelon slices at the concrete table, juice from the colored aluminum cups, paper sacks full of pecans, acorn wars, fireworks (mosquitoes!), finding crystals after Camille, finding the pecan tree gone when I came home from college. I am just sad about parting from this property.  I think you are right, maybe I need someone to blame, but it feels like Katrina is still doing damage.

Do you remember getting your ring from Granny?  I got mine from the house on Second Street, the Doll House.  I remember walking home with it on.  We have been blessed, with love and gifts."




You see? It's not just me.
Be sweet.

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