After floundering around here on Civatar for several years, I think I have finally found my niche!

Since there really is no one here to read my posts, I mainly post just for my own pleasure and to learn more about Word Press and how things work.

I have decided to choose ten top friends to concentrate on and make sure I connect with them at least once every day. It will be hard to choose just ten, but any more than that, and it is impossible to really do justice to the friendship.

Of course number one on the list is my friend Jim in Charleston. We met on x and found that we grew up just miles apart. We are about the same age and have eerily similar tastes and activities. He is an engineer who has had a hand in building a huge part of the structures in several surrounding counties.

He has also toured with a singing group for many years and is the choir director at his church. This past week he shared pictures with me of his church’s outing to Heritage Farms in Wayne County WV.

Jim is a sweetheart. He and his wife have been married since they were childhood sweethearts.

He shares pictures of his adventures with me.

Good Morning World!

Froggy and Fred are excited to announce that Autumn has officially arrived here in the valley.
Forty-one balmy degrees this morning…our lowest yet of the current season’s temperatures..

Bring it on!! We love it!

How cool is this! A puzzle made from one of my own photos, and I can share it with whomever I want.

HOME!

I’ve come to believe that’s one of the finest things anybody can become. Not rich. Not famous. Not important. Simply home. The kind of person children run toward instead of away from. The kind of friend who makes burdens feel lighter just by sittin’ beside you. The kind of neighbor who leaves a porch feelin’ more welcomin’ than when they arrived.

Years from now nobody will remember what kind of truck you drove. Or how big your house was. Or whether your lawn was the greenest on the street. But they’ll remember how they felt when they were with you. Whether your laughter made theirs come easier. Whether your table always seemed to have room for one more plate. Whether your porch light burned a little longer for someone who needed it. Whether your presence made ordinary days feel extraordinary.

In the end I don’t reckon that’s a bad way to be remembered at all. Because if you’re very fortunate somebody, somewhere, will think of you one quiet evenin’ and smile without even realizin’ they’re smilin’, and say, “I always felt at home with them.”

To my way of thinkin’…

There ain’t a finer epitaph in the whole English language.