A phone call from a new neighbor (we are all new, but
older in years) who has an abundance of tomatoes from the neighborhood
garden. Sure, I accept, saying I'll walk down to pick them up.
On the way, several other new friends have bags in
their hands for tomato and squash pickup. And others are walking dogs.
Soon there are neighbor visits on the street and sidewalk, sharing small
talk.
We look up to see the tomato lady in
her car, with bags of fruit to hand out along the way. I meet a couple
of new folks on the way back, who have been busy moving in, and
on vacations like the rest of us.
Retiring to my front porch swing and viewing the giant
beefstakes, the Bishop and counselor shows up. Said he had new records
for move-ins and wondered where the folks were. I consulted my address
charts I am trying to memorize, and we walk over to the address, - an
unfinished home, barely framed up. I think this symbolizes what I have
seen before...folks who put $ down, patiently waiting for the paint to
dry and the sod to be laid, trucking in and out checking on progress, as
I have been doing for the past 2 years.
We are all glad to be here...a place of our choosing, among the alternatives for these latter years.
Love, Mom/ Anne
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