August heat has finally arrived.  We had a wonderful reprieve from normal for the last three weeks.  Rain and cool weather.  When I was a little girl, I used to hear the old folk sit around and talk about the weather--which I thought was odd.  Who cared about the weather!?

Now I am an "old folk," and find myself talking and wondering about the weather.  I'm watching the two merging hurricanes in the Gulf, wondering what they are going to do.

I called a friend who lives on the edge of Lake Pontchartrain, (the lake between New Orleans and Mandeville) and invited her to come stay with me if she gets flooded.  Those on the coast always have to worry about hurricanes. 

Last year my daughter Pat drove me to the gulf so that I could get my feet wet.  It was a trip back in time.  When I married Ken, he lived in Pensacola where the sand is white and the water is blue.   I was 18 then, and 81 when we went back--two numbers reversed.  The sand and water were the same.

That 18 year old girl had no idea what was ahead of her. She certainly didn't know about the Marine Corps, military, or aviation.  I was asked to write an introduction biography about myself for when I speak on September tenth to the Daughters of the American Revolution.  I didn't know what to say about myself.  Everything in my life has been so random.  What is important?

What I think is memorable probably wouldn't be thought of as important by someone else.  Looking back, I wonder what that 18 year old girl would think about how she turned out?  What would she think was important about her next sixty-four years?  I would say this about her--she had grit.