My Grandmother’s Scarf

To the reader in India, who has looked at this post, will you tell me, please, why? Is it the title? Is it that I wrote about renovating my old farmhouse? Is it that I told how melancholy it is to have a child go away to college? Is it the mention of my difficult past with natural disasters? Is it the little thought at the end of my inspirational Grandmother? Really, I’d like know. Thank you for visiting theexileskitchen. Blessings.

theexileskitchen

Randomness

Last week it rained. The week before that it rained.  And the week before that. It’s soggy. None of my family in the Baton Rouge area were personally affected, but they are helping with the clean up and tearing out. Brings back childhood memories- sad, scary ones. This flooding in Louisiana is worse than what we experienced in 1983. My heart goes out to my native city. Our church collected needed items last Monday. I gave what I could.

My youngest went back to school Saturday afternoon. All day he kept asking if I was going to miss him.

“I already do and you’re not even gone yet,” was my answer.

He threw open his big arms and said like he did when he was little: “Hug?”

I hugged. He packed. Getting into his truck, he hesitated, jingled the keys.

“You know, if you need anything, just call me.”

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