Wet Dogs & Balloons

That kind of typified our last day in Greenville.  Before we went off to look at Trader Joe's and Costco, RJ bathed the dogs in the kitchen sink because Bubba peed on Sissy (they came with those names, don't judge) on their walk.  Oops.  They didn't look happy but they were stoic.

I liked Trader Joe's but don't think I'll travel out of town to shop in one.  I bought some granola and some trail mixes and some delicious aoli mustard.

After Durwood and RJ went through old photos and some letters with stories Pappy sent them when they were little and he was out of town, K packed sandwich makings for a picnic and we drove south to a Balloon Festival.  We got there too late to see the balloons fly (dang it) but we were in time to hear the country rock bands and they inflated a few of the balloons tethered to the ground and "glowed" them during the music.  Glowed means they ignited the burner to keep them inflated.  It looked awesome.  I took a video and one of these days I'll figure out how to put it on here.  (Maybe I'll try again right now... nope, sorry I tried and it said there was an error.)

Yesterday (Saturday) we drove away from Greenville around 9 AM and drove to Wilmington, NC to visit with Aunt B and her husband PR for a few days.  Their house is on the intracoastal waterway and they've got an awesome deck with a pool and a sun room and then a dock out into the water with a pergola and the boat.  We sat out on the deck with drinks after we got here and I kept hearing an owl nearby.  Didn't see it but kept hearing it, maybe I'll see it while we're here.  We're hoping the weather clears so PR can drive the boat around to the marina and we can take a boat ride later.  Fingers crossed.  Anyway I was up early after it rained and had it all to myself, well, me and the birds.  It was so fantabulous that I had to call Lala to tell her I wished she was there with me.  This'd be a great setting for a writing weekend.  I even took my notebook out there and scribbled a few words.  Writing!  Who knew? 

October 12--Vincent van Gogh, Olive Trees.  The sunset fell like golden coins through the gray green leaves of the olive grove.  The tree trunks were gnarled and twisted with age but still the orchard produced the best olives in the region.  Celia sat in the cool shade watching the heat rise from the rocks on the bare ground that sloped down to the road.  Sitting in the heat made her think that the winter would never come but come it would.  First the autumn wind would shift to blow out of the mountains; its cold, sharp breath would turn the leaves golden brown and then send them flying to bowl across the ground 

I've been having trouble falling asleep lately so I wondered if doing a little writing, getting back to my routine, would help, and it kind of did.  See?  Writing is good for all sorts of things.  Time to paste some pictures on here and get on with our day.  Toodles.
--Barbara Sue  (I'm Barbara Sue to Aunt B so as long as I'm here I'll be being Barbara Sue, whoever she is)