It has been a bitterly cold day. Sheila and I were up early fixing our traditional New Year's Day/Southern Thanksgiving repast, Hoppin' John, rice, corn bread and cobbler. We eat the black eyed pea dish, Hoppin' John, in remembrance of the time in the Civil War that Damn Yankee troops stole all the food they cold carry and burned the rest in an attempt to starve Southern civilians to death. I have talked about this often here in the past. (http://adventbs.blogspot.com/2016/01/new-years-day-2016-celebrating.html)
At 1:30 we shared the meal with a couple of dear old friends. She is waiting out a cancer scare. Tests last week found a mass where it shouldn't be and a biopsy early this week will tell the tale. Lately, too many of our conversations, too many of our friendships, are made bittersweet by situations like this. So, after all was said that could be said about her concerns, prayers were given and best wishes exchanged, we talked about old friends and good times in the past. At our age, carving out a few good hours during a hard patch is an adventure in of itself.
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