What a month.
My Dad and Aunt Jewel
came to visit for a whole week.
Thanksgiving we had sixteen people
at supper time
packed in the dining room and kitchen.
Six of them were twelve years old and under.
I hope the memories
will be a treasure to them,
as my own memories
of houses packed with family
at holiday gatherings
continue to be for me.
Sunday I got to preach
in the new sanctuary.
This week I am just catching my breath
after the whirlwind of family
and food
and fun.
I missed being with the crowd
at Grandmother's farm
in Florida.
But I was pleased to discover
that I can make oyster dressing
and that traditions continue
even as the faces and the places change.
In south Georgia, this would be considered a blizzard.
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