You Can Never Go Home Again

Some scenes around Clinton yesterday, here and below.

Good evening, dear friends ... yesterday I drove to my old hometown and visited my sister.  She says she never gets to eat at Shoney's so we ate there for lunch.  As a matter of fact, I don't get to eat at Shoney's that often either.  We had lunch very early, around 10:15 and we enjoyed it ...  no crowd and there was quietness.  My sister and I are needing some peaceful times in our lives right now, we have some big frustrations going on in both our lives.  We did accomplish some things yesterday and paid some taxes. 

Clinch River

Baker Cemetery

Buck from Call of the Wild

One of the best books I've ever read.

Yesterday I was feeling a little like Buck from Call of the Wild. I was wondering how I had lived in my hometown all those many years.  It was not feeling like my old home yesterday, as though  I (warning: another book title coming up)  was a "Stranger in a Strange Land".  My sister tried to cheer me up:  You wanna go to Kmart?  You wanna go to see the ducks under the bridge?  You wanna go to Hammer's?  You wanna go to Big Lots?  We'd already been to Walmart.  :-).

We did go to the Goodwill and we left there so proud and happy!  We had left a Goodwill empty handed, yeah for us accomplishing such a feat! The last thing either one of us needed was another something we didn't need.

Back to Buck from Call of the Wild.  At the beginning of the book I was rooting for Back to return home to his idyllic life on Judge Miller's estate in California.  Buck had been kidnapped and was taken north to the Klondike.  After Bucks many trials and experiences, I realized Buck could not go back to his former home before he was kidnapped. Last night I was comparing my ten years, the last eight years in the Dallas area as my "Klondike" years as Buck had experienced.  Those were the most valuable eight years of my life, growing in ways I had never imagined and I would not change a thing.  After many years in the Klondike, Buck was recovering the instincts of his wild ancestors.  Buck did go back every year to the place where his master, Thornton, had died.  After these visits, Buck returned to his  life in the wild.  These visits to his master's place of death reminded me of us visiting the grave sites of our loved ones.

My sister is the most generous and giving person I have ever met.
She insisted yesterday she buy Clint this peculator, she knew he/we had been wanting one.
Thank you, Patti, we love it and the coffee was fantastic!

No, this is not from Google images!  This was our stove this
morning when I tried to remove the basket  while "not over the sink"
as the instructions "suggested".





You all are the best listeners!  Thank you all so much for stopping by.  Next time I'll make sure I don't
spill the coffee all over everything.





♥