James has always been a creative soul. Here are two poems he wrote recently. One he did for me for Mother's Day and the other for his brother to commiserate his broken arm. Enjoy! Mothers Day It's a special time It's a time to rhyme It's a time to rise And open your eyes It's a time to cheer This is the best part of the year You just have to stay in bed Get cosey, rest your head 'Cus it's all about you You won't hear a single boo It's the best day in May It's MOTHERS DAY! Poor Boy Poor boy No joy Poor guy It's not a lie No joke Arm broke Like I said He's not dead! First time That's a rhyme! I feel sad He feels mad I didn't know at all Until Mom made a call I felt sorry So did you Poem's over Now we're through. And while we are on James, here he is at his 4th grade Wax Museum event last night as Benjamin Franklin! ...
We sold our home on Sunset Beach, NC in March. It was a bittersweet decision but it had become challenging to get to SSB enough to enjoy it. Also, now living in the Caribbean sealed the deal. So, before all the restrictions of COVID-19 really came into effect, we closed on March 6th. We were to leave our major things there to retrieve after the last rental in early August. Best laid plans on paper don't always work out! So, on April 10th movers with the help of our agent and the new owners, moved all of our things out of the house to storage. The trip we had planned as a family to see the house one last time and pack up is no longer. I am sad but oddly content. I am so thankful for the 10 years of wonderful and precious memories we created there with grandparents, cousins, Aunts and Uncles and friends. I am especially thankful for the memories I have of my Dad at Sunset. Here is one of my favorite. We had walked to the ice cream shop after coming off the beach late...
The day was long and the process even longer. Our impending move to Thetford, VT was closing in and we still had so much stuff left to pack. Where does it all come from? It seems that when one closet was empty another was waiting patiently to be packed up. I would have to say that I didn't have any more patience for packing up our lives. Things that were to be done weeks ago were looming in the final hours. People in and out, phone calls from friends checking on us, everyone still processing that the house we had lived in and called home for the last four years would no longer be ours. I think the process of moving, during the final hours, makes it possible to cut ties and leave. After the trucks (6 Men and 3 Trucks!) were loaded and pulling out of the driveway, we still remained. One cabinet opened in the kitchen revealed a stack of some of my favorite platters and cooking stones. Carpets to be vacuumed, counters to be washed down, empty rooms to be swept. Two...
Comments
Post a Comment