Going to Carolina in My Mind ??

The middle sister left Connecticut to go to college in North Carolina, and never came back. Of course she has returned for visits and family reunions , but North Carolina is her home. This weekend we'll be going to Carolina for her son's wedding. It will be the second trip to N.C. this year...Not unusual.
"Can't you just feel the sunshine? Can't you just feel the moonshine?"

The oldest sister, still preserving the ancestral lineage in Greenwich, will be there with entire family. She has four beautiful daughters, one audaciously handsome son, and yes, the original husband. ......."loves the finest thing around..."

In keeping with the Southern culture, we will be entertained Friday night with a catered "Pig Pickin" party. I think the Hawaiian Luau is how we equate this up North. The evening will be authentic, with country blue grass music and dancing. What does one wear to a semi-formal Pig Pickin ?? I'm wearing Chinese silk.....does that make sense ???

The big event will be Saturday evening. Not sure what it is about weddings and funerals but I think Waterboy will bring a hanky for me. Even "with a holy host of others standing around me" I know there will be "a silver tear appearing"

I will be paying close attention, as my baby boy marries next month.
Guess that makes me the MONG (mother of the next groom)
"I'm gone, say nice things about me, carry on without me, I'm gone to Carolina"

Maiden Voyage

Born and raised in New England. Maybe not "hardy" New England(Greenwich Connecticut)but New England just the same. Now,in Massachusetts for the past 20 years, I understand the term; "Hardy New England Stock" The winters are long, dark and cold. One way to warm the heart and soul is to travel somewhere sunny and hot, with gentle ocean breezes.

My family had already been boating for years when I was born. Weekends in the summer were spent either on the boat, or playing around the boat yard. I was the youngest of three girls and sometimes wondered if my dad was disappointed not to have a son. I remember asking my mother, when I was very young, if dad "wished I were a boy"... My mother was a kind, intuitive woman. Intuitive enough to know that her answer might determine how I defined myself as an adult. She answered without hesitation, "He said you were the closest he would ever come to heaven." My dad died when I was six years old. Her answer sustains me today.