Family way up here, at the very best, are kinfolks I get to see maybe once a year. Vague recollections, life-long memories, half thoughts, and my Aunt and Uncle, looking back at being married for 50 years.
I was standing on the balcony for the hotel I was at, looking at the offending source of noise – it was, I believe they’re called ferry boat – and for all the early morning confusion, it looked like this one was headed straight towards me. Not something I’m accustomed to seeing at all. Or am I used to hearing foghorn that – I’m not joking – rattles the windows with its volume.
“Are you from the Lone Star State?” Me thinking, “No, I’m actually from New York, I just wear boots and bolo because it looks good with my eye color.”
I will have fun this afternoon, none of the other cousins made it out to church. I was there. I took communion, and you know? The place wasn’t struck by lightning. Proof.
