I miss my home town...Pryor, Oklahoma.  I knew everyone and everyone knew me.  Moving to a new town when you are in your late seventies is not a good idea.  The only way to meet people is at church or at a bar...and I’ve never been in a bar.

Those at your new church raised their children together, taught Sunday School together, went to ball games together, and as a new comer, you have no past.  It is difficult.  I did join a group called “Rusty Keys”...a group who are trying to restore their old piano or violin, etc. skills.  That is good.  I am glad I did that.  As a new comer, you have to take the initiative. 

But you have to take the reins of your own life.  It is too easy to sit and watch TV and order take out.  And there isn’t anything good on TV, and take out gets “greasy.”

I think I’m going to have to start cooking again.  But my neighbors are so good to bring me food.  I’m not complaining, just telling it like it is.  I’m looking forward to coloring my Bible on Moondays with Jeanette.  Our new word is “Mercy.”  Now we just have to decide what color it will be.