Sometimes there are relationships in life that get strained or damaged and can’t seem to be put right. I discovered late last night when I realized that I hadn’t seen any FB posts, or chatted with a high school friend of mine in weeks. Not just an acquaintance, but someone who had taken the time and trouble to come out to Arizona to visit with Ron and me several years ago. Just as this goes to press, I see that he has accepted my Facebook Friend request.  That makes me dare to hope that our friendship will be restored. It is hard to lose any friends – but the loss of close friends is a particular sorrow.

Yesterday was a very busy day. It was day four in a wonderful three-week-long class on Bible reading that a long time friend is offering, which involves, drum roll please, Bible reading, along with some journal writing and a daily brief video. Thank you, Matt Musteric. Then I worked for about five hours answering sympathy cards and letters, ran out to mail them, and claim a package at the local post office before heading home.

I relaxed when I got home. Enough is enough, I said. So I got comfortable up in our second floor Rialto Theatre and chilled watching the 1997 version of Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre in which Ciarán Hinds played Mr. Rochester. Just what the doctor ordered.

Back at my desk, last evening, I discovered a photo, dated 1975, which must have fallen out of a book or something. I had taken a picture out of our car window, that my Dad was driving. He slowed because he spied a remarkable Barn. I had placed a label on the picture, which said that it was south of McClure, Ohio. My dad always loved country drives, collected old tools and books, and delighted in unusual architecture. I spent a little time this morning on Google Maps trying to find such a barn – but I could not.