Thank you so much for reading me. It’s been a unique experience having a blog with only one, much appreciated, reader. To be selfish and save some morning time, I am going to stop posting here.
You will be able to find me and mine at:
Prosebox or prosebox.net/box/1796
Postcards or urban-archology.com
I will check in here every once in a while, and I know one of you has already found me on Blogger. Maybe I will say something too.
The holiday season is upon us. The stores are full Christmas. The airwaves and television crams red and greens down our faces. At least there’s a little blue too. That’s nice. Thank you all for sticking with me this 2015 NoJoMo. I’ve had a lot of fun thinking of things to chat about this year. I may take a few days off now. Maybe doing decorating.
Shopping too….if I can find something George will want.
It’s a season of prayer also. I pray for all those in wars. I pray for the lost and homeless, the alcoholic, the drug addict, the hurt and the sad. I believe prayer helps. It’s a gift.
- Himself: He’s feeling pretty good. Gym before work. Still many small meals….his way. We met one of his last bosses working temp at the American Girl Doll store. G feels really lucky to have had a career rather than a series of temp jobs.
- Herself: We have shopped for the family….all but G. What do you get for the man who says he doesn’t need anything. Heading for the pool in 40 degree air then menu planning and shopping. Reading this afternoon.
- Reading: The new Crais.
- Gratitudes: For this first year of having a heater.
We both have a passion for travel.
He grew up in Pakistan, then Colorado, then back to Pakistan, with a dash of Spain. I have to confess that I grew up in Chula Vista and remember only one childhood trip. The part of Colorado he came from looks an awful lot like the Chula Vista I came from.
My hometown was a far nicer place then than it is now. The streets were tree lined, two lane roads with dirt verges. No sidewalks. There was a farm where now sits Fredericka Manor…the local old folks home. Right below us was a dairy, and everybody but us had horses. We had chickens, a veggie garden, and lots of trees on five acres. At night I could hear the coyotes calling.
The important part for my mother and grandfather was that a good golf course was just minutes away.
The important part for me was to get away. It still is.
George is a homebody. He loves going places, but coming home is often the best part of the trip for him.
We like to have a base camp. In retirement, we would like to take our home with us when we go….perhaps in a small camper or trailer. Perhaps we could keep this or another small place to be home on our returns. Our friends Tehachap and Robert do this. One home in Arizona and another in California above the rail lines is a perfect way to do living.
The truth is; who knows what the future will hold. All we have in the end is love.
- Himself: A good last few days. More tests ordered by the Gastroenterologist. Lots of gaming on his computer, and fun stuff shopping online and in stores. Enjoyed his 4 days off.
- Herself: Read, shopped, worked, ate, and am really aware how larger I have grown. Eating less tho.
- Reading: The new Crais is next.
- Gratitudes: The list is endless. That Margot had a good Thanksgiving, that laka called, that G is ok today, that I didn’t eat my temporary tooth, and that I am not homeless.