When I visited my Sisters last weekend, I thought about how lucky I was to still be able to go home again. I know where I live is home but the farm I spent my first 18 years, I still call "home". Sister Helen is the best hostess and I get to walk with Sister Fleta. My Sisters try to be useful. Sister Helen is remodeling and repairing the home place. I can’t imagine putting down floors and a new sink. Next birthday Sister Fleta will celebrate her diamond jubilee. She still has a full time job and walks a few miles everyday. As she walks she picks up trash and sticks the bottles and cans on twigs and limbs of trees. Then at least once a week she carries a bag and takes it all home to dispose of it. Maybe some of the offenders will see their error and cease, but it doesn't seem to be working because along the country road an endless abundance of trash is present. Around my Sisters I feel quite a lazy bum. They are pushing on....
3 comments:
Nice that you can still go 'home'. :)
Yes, it is. My home is a complete wreck now. The folks who bought it just let it run down.
Always nice to go home, people must intentionally put bottles and cans on twigs and branches...seems like that would take lots of energy why not just pick them up straight away. We have a fellow that walks two miles up and back every other day to pick up roadsides, it has been his activity for about ten years now since he retired.
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