Well, it’s Sunday here. We’ve been to church and feasted on those good ‘ol southern leftovers that have kept us in a constant state of “satiation”. There is always food out and the temptation to constantly graze is ever present. I’ve had to give the kids those “silent signals” all of us parents are so good at, telling them that “that is quite enough, Bucky”. (Of course, they are very close to figuring out that if they just make the slightest stink over the forced boundary, someone will come to their rescue and tell Mom and Dad to “let the kids have their pleasure”.) I don’t like being inside, so I’m sitting outside on a chair, watching Earl trying to work on his mom’s car and enjoying the last bit of fresh air before the mosquitoes come out. I was eaten alive last night trying to enjoy the twilight hours. The breeze feels good and doesn’t make the humidity feel quite so bad. There is a cloud cover and it feels like it might be wanting to start to rain a bit, but then the sun will shine through and you feel that humidity again. But the breeze feels good . . .
We have spent the days planning our day, only to have someone stop by and then we sit and visit for a bit . . . up to a few hours. It is more like that in the south than in southern CA, but it is especially noticeable when someone is sick or has passed away. It sure makes one feel like they have a lot of friends who care about them (one of those southern hospitalities that I wish we had more of where we live), and it also proves to be good training ground for holding all things with an open hand and realizing that the Lord certainly ordains the day. Perhaps this is one of those dynamics that cause the south to feel so “slower” in pace.
Well, one such visitor came by and we visited for a few hours. Never got back to the quiet time outside (one always seems to visit around the kitchen table here . . . especially the older generation). It is now Monday morning, and I’m sitting at the local Laundromat (“Cleaning World”) doing another load of laundry. Rita’s poor machine isn’t working at the house and when 7 people descend upon you in force, you must do laundry. The owner of this “washeteria” (spell check has no recommendations for this one. Did I spell it right, you southern readers?) is named Shirley and she is from Taiwan. She is very sweet and greeted me by name the second day I walked in. She told Molly and I about how she grew up doing laundry in the river and how she learned to sew when she was 7 years old. She has been in Denham Springs about 20 years and lives in a little house behind the cleaners. In addition to running a cleaning business, she also does alterations and was able to hem 3 pairs of pants for Molly that I tried to hem Sunday night before we left but my machine broke (NO!!!!!).
It looks like we’re going to get a storm tonight. It is VERY humid and breezy. My clothes are sticking to me and I don’t dare touch my hair. We have a full day planned when I get back to the house and then we plan on leaving out early in the morning (Tuesday). Not sure my back is ready for the ride home yet, but it will be good to get back home. However, it is always enjoyable being “home” here in LA. I wish I had more time to blog all of my thoughts and impressions and lessons . . .