The photo above is not a selfie, David took it. I have many photos of me taken by others….father, boyfriends, girlfriends, husbands. I like some of them, but not all. I asked David to take the photo above, so he can remember me working on the Afghan that will cover his knees years from now. And to share with my cousin Lois, who has inspired me to get back to crocheting.
David says he likes this photo because I am almost smiling. Truth is, I am breathing through my mouth because my nasal passages are blocked.
David and I spent yesterday, cleaning….removing debris, including a mouse nest or two, from the garden shed, rolling a birdcage outside for a good scrub, putting junk on the street for trash pickup, cleaning around the bird cages in places the cleaners never manage to reach, and generally working up a sweat in s dust cloud. All this plus inhaling pollen did a job on my sinuses.
So, here I sit, studying my daughter’s itinerary as she and two granddaughters drive cross the good old US of A, en route to visit her brother Richard, SIL Wendy and nephews in San Diego.
Before she left, my daughter sent paperwork to NC for a state teacher’s license. I’m probably not supposed to tell anyone, however, lately, we’ve had Carolina on our minds…a lot. She, because she has a gazillion cousins there (her Dad came from NC), and me, because when my Dad finally settled for a while, it was in Carolina, first South then North. Thus, I lived in the Carolinas for a dozen years or so. Not as long as Virginia, but childhood impressions are strong. Before he moved to Virginia, David spent much of his life living in NC, even graduating from UNC Chapel Hill around the time his daughter Julie was born. David’s Mom, who was Russian said
“I’m not Tar Heel born or Tar Heel bred, but when I die I’ll be Tar Heel dead.” She, David’s dad and son, and my Mom are buried there, albeit at different ends of the state.