As summer begins winding down and the shadows grow longer and the days shorter, I was mentally flogging myself for doing nothing much.  Then I began downloading photos from my camera taken since last May. 

Oh my gosh, I’ve not been sitting idly watching Netflix and munching on bonbons  –   I’ve been making memories, and lots of them!  Above are my friends I’ve begun calling the “Sunday People” because we met at church then our friendship grew to include road trips, the latest of which was the Alluvian Cooking School in Greenwood.  A trip to New York in December is in the works.

Then it was “on the road again” with my childhood friends jammed like sardines into the back of Hazle’s small SUV with Beth, Carole and Carolyn.  Heck we could have gotten four more in there I’m certain. Beth tried to punk my hair which is tough when you don’t have any of the REAL stuff.

Our most recent outing was this weekend when from left Olivia, Norma, Barbara, Ann and I celebrated Marie’s entry into the Golden Years.

Yesterday we were like kids again trying to watch the eclipse.  Marie even went to Kroger and bought cereal for the first time in three decades to make her homemade viewing system.  She is being cheered on my Charlotte who also works with Marie.

Then, the girls had a party for all the mayday girls including Barbara Bryan, Judy Staggers and yours truly as we gained entry into that pejorative society of  aggressive domineering, forceful women of a certain age.

“Sunday People” Rose and Zack work feverishly at cooking school – Zack mastered a new way to cook catfish that will be repeated many times.  Below our new friend Burnette from Columbus added to our culinary education by having Marie and me over to learn a whole new way or cooking and eating which neither Marie nor I can remember the name.  But it was delicious. 

Memories! Isn’t that what it’s all about.  We must make more and more memories so that when it’s cold and dreary, we can pull up places and people we’ve  loved while having the times of our lives.  I thought that when you officially became an elderly person, the fun times would end.  But not my crowd.  If it’s possible we have better times the farther along we travel on that nebulous road called time.

Scary, huh!?