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Hey Y'all: Happy Spring! Are you glad winter is over? I am. Atlanta was cold and wet for a long time. So cold and wet, from now on I'm getting the heck out of here, January - March. Jeff and I kicked off spring with an Italian adventure. About two years ago we purchased a trip to Manciano, Italy through an auction event. For a long time, we weren't sure if we'd go or not. Been there done that sort of thing. Ultimately, we decided there is more to Italy than what we'd already seen, Milan and Venice. And we're most certainly not getting any younger. So we went... Manciano is about two hours from Rome. Rather than hire a driver we decided to rent a car. In part because we planned to visit Michaelangelo's David sculpture in Florence (three hours north of Manciano). Our villa was fab. (2,000 sq. ft.), cozy, and oh-so Italian. The front door put us immediately (and I mean immediately) onto a quaint road. If someone was walking by you'd have to wait for them to pass before stepping out. The roads lead to charming restaurants and neighborhoods that were as (more maybe) interesting as museums. When we first arrived we opened all of the huge, outdoor shutters in the back that covered french doors and windows (five). The wind was blowing and the shutters kept slamming back onto the doors and windows. For sure, the neighbors knew we had arrived. Windy breeze, bam, BAM, bam, windy breeze, BAM, bam. I can still hear them. BAM! The biblical story of David in and of itself is inspiring but, oh my, the statue of David in Florence is visual ecstasy. As close to perfection as one can imagine. Being in Michaelangelo's midst of artistic genious was worth driving an extra six hours to see. --Even if it meant narrowly escaping a scam disaster.-- Yep. Jeff and I almost got railroaded on our way out of Florence. As we headed out of town, Jeff was driving the front end. We were minding our own business in the right-hand lane when out-of-no-where in the left lane comes a black, Audi hatchback blazing by like a bat out of hell. After they passed, they abruptly slowed and got in front of us causing us to then pass them. Two men were in the car. They honked their horn as we passed them and then they proceeded to get right up beside us. The driver had his window down. He was facing us, and his hands were oddly in the the air. He was attempting something but it happened so quickly I had no idea what he was doing. I thought he had a gun because where I live if something similar happens there's a decent chance a gun will appear. Gun or no gun, the driver's hands were outside of the window in an alarming fashion. We heard something hit the passenger side of our car (the driver threw a rock). After the rock hit us, the Audi immediately pulled over on the side of the road. Apparently, they thought we would also pull over. Umm, where we live, if such an incident occurs one does not pull over to have a chat with the perpetrator. Just ahead of us (thank God!) was an exit with a gas station that was relatively active. This was a blessing because there aren't a lot of gas stations or any other place to stop along the way. We pulled into the gas station and the bandits pulled in right behind us. My heart was pounding. I truly thought I could have a heart attack. We were worried but there were people around. So, not that worried. The guy in the passenger seat walked up to my side of the car. He had a gangsta-style ball cap on. I rolled down the wondow. The guy looked at me and said: "You hit me. Ma English no good, ahh, you hit me, you hear da boom? Da boom?" He pointed to our rearview mirror insinuating that we side-swiped him. "No, we didn't" I said. At this point, he is already appearing to back down. Jeff leaned over and said "I saw you throw a rock at us! I saw you do it!!" ...duh... The bandit went back to his car and they pulled up to Jeff's side. The wanna-be gangstas continued hustlin' for money. Ultimately, Jeff motioned his hand and told them to "go, go, get out of here". They left the gas station. The scammers figured out quickly that we weren't afraid of them (well, maybe a little) but no way were we going to hand over money. Turns out, the scam they tried to pull off is relatively common. A quick google search brought up articles on Wing Mirror Scams in Italy. The scammer's eratic driving could indeed have caused a lot of harm but their blatant rock-throwing tactic, assumption that we'd pull over after it, and subsequent accusation of impact was/is utter ridiculousness. Who would hand over a penny for such nonesense? Granted, I may have paid a couple euros for a selfie with the cartoon-like characters but nothing beyond that. The whole ordeal ended up being laughable, hysterical. Manciano, Florence and Rome are beautiful and were fabulous to visit. But the wing-mirror scam that local delinquents tried to perpetrate on us dominates our memory. It's nice to be back in ATL. Happy Spring, everyone. Thank you for reading! Love, Shelley P.S. We're pretty sure that we found "the" Maserati!! More to come when confirmed.

Hi Friends Hope y’all are doing well! Does it ever drive you nuts when you can’t find a PIN?  Try looking for a 40-year-old VIN.  You’ll never PIN complain again.  At least I won't. I’m on the hunt for this 1976(ish) Merak Maserati that I owned in the early ‘80s. The car may be long gone - totalled - but it also may be around.  Some where. We want to repurchase it! All I have to go on is that the man I sold it to in 1983, resold it in '87 to someone “in Kentucky”.  At the time of sale the license plate was: “Merak” - Oregon.  I also know that State Farm insured the car but no digital records were kept at the time so there’s really no point in typing this sentence. If anyone has any suggestions, please email: triangleparkatl@gmail.com. Thank you for reading! Love, Shelley #Maserati #Merak #Merakmaserati

Hi Dear Friends: It’s February.  Hallelujah! How are you?  As you kick off February, do you have plenty of uplifting things (or at least one) to keep you rejoiced? Who can escape the disheartening stuff that runneth over news outlets these days?  Granted, light is in the distance but, oh my, is it ever distant lately?  My eyes are rubbed raw trying to keep sight of the light. Here’s an inspirational, joyful pass-time that I've rediscovered.  Something that eliminates a need for eye-rubbing and drying.  Something that will inject joy into your heart in spite of gloomy news, every which way you look: The Atlanta Symphony Orchestra, specifically...and The Woodruff Arts Center in general! Are you a symphony fan?  Used to be?  Always wanted to be?  Never gave it much thought?  Are you beat down from depressing news day in and day out? Well… Classical music has been proven to alleviate depression! (See yellow button below) If you live in or visit Atlanta (a Delta pilot once told me “if you die and go to heaven you have to go through ATL"), please know that there is a thriving arts culture here.  My favorite part of The Woodruff Arts Center is ASO (Atlanta Symphony Orchestra). By the end of 2023, I hadn’t been to the Symphony in 40 years. Since January 3, 2024, I’ve attended three concerts (long story).  All three were mesmerizing, including how quickly the time passed.  If you know me, you know that sitting still isn’t something that comes naturally.  I was shocked to, save for a couple seat adjustments, sit as still as the chair for the whole thing. The first concert we saw was Vivaldi (personal fave) and Mozart. The second was Anton Bruckner (Te Deum). The Bruckner concert included the amazing Atlanta Symphony Chorus (wow!). The third was Mozart and Bruckner with pianist, Sunwook Kim. Wow, again. All three performances were superb. But, in particular, Bruckner’s Te Deum swiped our breath away. This rendition that I found online isn't nearly as compelling as ASO's live performance but it's still wonderful. Bruckner’s work is emotional, moving.  There’s no mistaking his journey of angst and struggle. “Medieval Christians believed the Te Deum had the power to heal.  Some believers swore it could raise the dead.  Te Deum, meaning “God, we praise you,” is a hymm dating from the 4th century.  It became a feature of morning prayer, and Christian martyrs are said to have sung its words as they met their maker.”  (Encore, Atlanta Symphony Orchestra) Anton Bruckner was from the Austrian countryside. His father passed away when he was 13-years-old.  After arriving in Vienna to pursue his genius, he was relentlessly teased for looking like and dressing like a poor, country peasant.  Bruckner dedicated his Te Deum ensemble: “For the greater glory of God.”  Saying: “[I dedicated it to God] in gratitude for having safely brought me through so much anguish in Vienna.” (Encore, Atlanta Symphony Orchestra) The Atlanta Symphony Orchestra and Choir’s performance of Bruckner’s Te Deum was indescribable: “If you can describe it, God didn’t do it,” --Michael Youssef I hope you’ll give a classical music performance at ASO a try in 2024.  A symphony performance any where is sure to lift your spirits into a brighter light than currently exists. Thank you for reading! Love, Shelley (Benefits of Listening to Classical Music above)

My mother, Diane, was an automobile enthusiast. She loved cars, especially her last one.  Here's a shot of the beloved 1995 Mercury Grand Marquis LS that she inherited from her dad. As mom entered her late 80s and early 90s, no one could talk her into purchasing a smaller, more reliable car.  Wasn't going to happen, ever. End of argument. Some of us were worried that the doors or wheels on that Mercury might just fall off without warning.  It had close to 100,000 miles on it and various issues were popping up...like a rear window that didn’t close properly. A fact that was discovered while inside a car wash.  Didn't bother mom a bit. Until the end of her life, Diane never stopped saying: “I love that car; it runs just fine.  The mechanic says he’s never seen anything like it in his life. I'm never getting rid of it.” When mom was a passenger in my car, she often noticed other cars on the road saying: “What kind of car is that?  That sure is a nice car.  How much does one of those cost?”  She simply loved admiring and riding in all sorts of cars. But all that curiousity and admiration didn't mean she wanted to trade in the beloved Mercury. Guess where it is now? Panama, South America! Yep. No kidding. Diane's favorite car in the world is now living its best life in warm, tropical Panama! And I mean best life.  It has been born again in Panama with one heck of an overhaul. Meet the man responsible for the Mercury's rebirth, Ernesto: Ernesto worked for my parents.  He was a good friend to both of them and he gave a moving eulogy at their memorial when he attributed starting his own business to mom’s encouragement. But his most touching anecdote was when he told a story about mom inviting him and his mother to lunch at their house. Beautiful! There are no words to describe how proud and happy Diane would be knowing that Ernesto restored her late father's old car to good as new. I was especially cheerful to see dad’s American flag and United States Marine Corp. decals still in place on the back windshield. Priceless! I thank God for mutual joy shared through an uncommon friendship. God Bless you, my friend. Thank you for reading! Love, Shelley (Christmas decorations at the car's new home :) (Before video) (after video)

Hi Friends, I hope everyone had a nice Christmas celebration and a smooth transition into 2024? Happy2024 New Year Are you happy, like me, that 2023 is dust in the wind? Phew. Too much sadness.  Too much struggle, angst and other crap.  (The rest of this paragraph should elaborate and break down what is meant by those adjectives but doing so would only rationalize the misery). Onward and upward as mom liked to say. Whaddaya gonna do?  As I like to say. Accentuate the positive, alleviate the negative…as the song goes… On that cheery note!  My first grandchild, Charlie, graced earth with his precious, perfect presence in 2023.  How’s that for accentuating the positive?  And, boy oh boy is he a positive joy to behold. Charlie has the most scrumptious, little arms with irresistible rolls that are as temptingly squeezable as playdough.  Creamy, white roll after roll that look like tiny rubber bands gently hold them together cause me to want to devour them in one gulp!  His little smile brings a smile to the weariest soul.  His cheeks are peachy plump with a right-side dimple to die for.  He grins, tongue-roll gurgles and even gives a stink-eyes if he so desires! Genius I say, genius! And of course I’m utterly unbiased. --Have you noticed that Christmas cards are waning?  Becoming a thing of the past?  We received a few, most of them the final few days before Christmas but not nearly as many in years past. Admittedly, I haven’t mailed cards out for a few years.  It’s kinda sad because I really enjoy the cards we receive.  Thank you to those who sent them! I’m sorry to not have completed the card-sending task in a while. Today, I wrote a thank you to friends who invited us to a lovely evening at the Atlanta Symphony Orchestra last night.  My handwriting was very not-pretty.  One stinking card and the lines looked scribbly, uneven, and I mis-spelled guest which meant I had to do the scratch-out-correction thing that makes the reader wonder why it happened?  Maybe they wanted to say something else?  Maybe they didn’t really have a good time? I thought I should throw the card away and buy another one but remembered it cost $10 so ended up convincing myself that our friends could look past the ink scribble-out and, hopefully, realize my gratitude was sincere regardless of crappy penmanship and bad spelling. Whatever. Nevertheless, I do wish everyone a very Happy 2024 New Year! My family has a lot to be thankful for and we do, indeed, thank God for all of our blessings.  But my favorite blessing, the one I’m most thankful for is: friends, YOU!  I love my old and new friends very much. Thank YOU for reading! Love, Shellety

I loved her. Did she love me? Like a type-A student whose professor says on the first day of class: I don’t give any A’s, I yearned to earn her A-love.  I wrote notes and drew pictures of little girls holding flowers and hearts, signed with x and o.  I gave her hugs, kisses and hard-earned gifts. Sometimes all of my babysitting money went for drug store kitchen utensils she didn’t have and garage sale bowls with butterflies on them. I danced, sang and skipped-to-my-lou.  Here I am, here I am, over here.  Waving, stomping, anything, everything…whilst nothing. Dad didn’t lose his partner.  Mum would never leave him.  Identifying for mumwas being dad’s one and only.  But dad found another partner all the same.  This made mum feel low, shamed, and unpretty. I stopped skipping-to-my-lou for mum. I hated that dad found another partner prettier than her. Mum was the prettiest. She was sad, too.  Sadder.  She’d always been sad. I started giving mum ideas on how to show me she loved me.  I told her my dream of receiving a bulging stocking from Santa Claus on Christmas morning.  Popcorn balls, candy canes, socks and ribbons stuffed to the hilt proclaiming: I love you, I love you! Come Christmas morning, the stocking was empty save for a tiny, yellow, gumball-machine, smiley ring with rolling, black, beady eyes. Mum was depressed.  Everyone was depressed. Dad’s darling was down too.  He told her so-long, it’s been swell. I’m an average, starving artist now.  Mum has my finest pieces framed in her new house.  I call mumoften and sit next to her in photos with my arm around her.  I buy her clothes, brickerbrack, lunch, all the things she loves to have and do. Love me, too? B-, Try harder... Thank you for Reading! Love, Shelley #flashfiction

Loss Check out lady asks how I am? “All the tomatoes in my garden died, disease.” She continues scanning, chewing gum. Waiting for the bus I mention the tomatoes to a fellow.  The young man’s eyes transfer from a phone screen to me then back to the phone. Laboring up stairs to my room I glance at the dead tomato plants in a window above. Leaning over the bannister I explain to a neighbor below what happened. “Well, I can’t buy gas this week…” he shouts. Sid curls in my lap. Soft, warm and purring. I wondered what he was saying. Awake We never would have been friends if not for my many olive branches and shunned invitations. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you? We’re family after all…blood is thicker than water? There’s one problem.  All the above is only true if you’re not a Pollyanna ignoramus. A blood relative plots to destroy me while I’m looking the other way. Decades old memories creep in.  Sneers, name calling, condescension, superiority boasting. But what about the olive branches and invites? Back then, I didn’t understand how a sibling could dismiss another without regret, remorse, longing. Now, I understand. Invasion Monsters roar in the distance and nearby.  Rarely do they take a breath. They didn’t used to be around.  I wish they would leave, never come back.  They’re scary, nasty and dirty.  Even if they sound far away, turn in the opposite direction and run as fast as you can. It wasn’t that long ago when there weren’t any monsters around.  The neighborhood was peaceful, not yucky and scary.  We could go about enjoying natural wonders like birds, light breezes, children playing.  That sort of thing. Not any more.  Those days are gone.  And so are most of the leaves. Thank you for reading my flash fiction stories! Love, Shelley Hebrews 12 says that Jesus is the author of our faith. Amen. What blessing have you been given that you are most happy about? For me it is that I wasn't appointed to be a "judge." FlMash fictMM io Flash fiction

Fate Folly Hottie alert at the Starbucks on Fairfax.  He squeezes in next to me on the sofa.  Good vibes.  He hasn’t shaven in a couple days.  He notices I notice.  I never lie.  It’s not a lie if it’s none of anyone’s business.  His almost beard looks amazing.  I straighten up and put my coffee on the table.  The energy is apparent.  Never mind, this it.  Haven’t I seen you before?  Perfect.  Buuuzzz kiiill.  Two kids crowd in, “Daddy, daddy.”  He scoops them onto his lap as if I’m invisible.  I’m going to lie now and say I didn’t care. (100 words) Take That He was the cutest boy in school…no doubt, smart too.  But, no way was he “the fastest person on earth.”  Give me a break.  The biggest bragger on earth, maybe.  Everyone hated his bragging.  I wasn’t cute, smart or fast.  I didn’t brag either.  Until the day I fed him a knuckle sandwich. (53 words) Could Be Jayne hadn’t seen Chad in four months.  She wanted time, space, a subzero. Chad wanted kids and also a subzero. Rumor was Chad moved out of state. How could he be standing in line to vote at the library, too? Chad waited an hour before walking in three people behind Jayne. Inside, Chad fiddled with something in his pocket. Jane’s brow dripped sweat. Will You Marry Me appeared to emerge from thick hot rafter air above.  Jane wiped her brow. Exiting, Chad emptied his pocket in a trash receptacle. Jayne pressed: End Call after dialing 911. Smoke rising. (100 words) No title Good news, no cell phones will be in heaven. (9 words) Seoul I’m just a soul living in Seoul My heart is pure and also unsure Outside is scary, inside is weary I share many likes that I don’t even like Many will say very nice things Not knowing a thing of how it does sting Under cover I go pecking and pecking Whilst more and more turning to foe Lonely indeed with many a sting Outside is scary, inside is weary Living in Seoul a single soul (76 words) True I love you. (3 words) Thank you for reading! (Especially the last one. Thank you for reading that one the most.) Love, Shelley There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord. 1Corinthians 12:5-6 (Solution Section: Update to this blog: If you happen to suffer from leaf blower noise and pollution fatigue I have a suggestion: when you hear and smell pollution-belching, peace-preventing leaf blowers while in your home: play favorite music as loud as possible and run hepa filters. Who can complain? Cheers.)

Bree's parents were night owls. Going to bed after 1 a.m. was normal for them. They had just settled under the covers when disheveled Bree came bursting through the rickety door of their apartment. She ran hurriedly in and out of all of the rooms. Bree’s younger sister had just turned off the television and her twin brothers were already asleep. “What’s going on? Where have you been?” Her mother asked. “Didn’t we tell you not to come home so late? Look, it's almost 2:00 in the morning.” “You won’t believe what happened! I can’t believe it,” Bree said, gasping for breath, “It’s unbelievable, for real, ohymygod…!” Gripping her phone for dear life, Bree thumped into her father’s lazy boy chair. “Where is it, I have to find it” she said, swiftly swiping her phone for the news. With ruffled hair and wondering what all the commotion was about, her twin brothers peered out of their room, rubbing their eyes. “What on earth has happened?” her father asked, “settle down.” “Are you drunk, Bree? You look a hot mess” her sister snickered. “Drunk? Me? No, well sort of. I mean I was but not any more. That doesn’t matter -- what matters is that the whole country knows who I am now!” Bree continued swiping up and down on her cracked phone screen searching for the news. She said, “Last night only y’all knew Bree Joan Johnson, Banjo Barista from Littleton County. By morning the whole world's gonna know me. The whole world!” “Get a hold of yourself and tell us what happened,” her father said. “No way! You have not gone viral?” her sister surmised, “that’s impossible!” “What are you talking about? What do you mean, viral?” her father asked. “Y’all live like hermit crabs! The whole world knows who I am, Dad. I’m a celebrity now. That’s what viral means. On the internet! On social media! I’m everywhere, Dad. I’ve gone viral!” she gushed. Bree’s dad turned pale, cold. Her mom held her head in her hands and wept as the twin boys tippy-toed around trying to peek at Bree’s phone. “Here it is! I found it. Look, read for yourself!” Her father reluctantly put his reading glasses on. “Right there!” Bree said, tapping her phone screen. “Look, here's my name right there, Bree Johnson! Shh, shh, listen, here it comes…” The whole family gathered around Bree's phone. A police and ambulance siren was screeching with lights flashing in every direction. Bree turned the volume up and the twins squinted, covering their ears. The whole family watched, alarmed. Her mom and dad gasped. The boys raced back to their bedroom. Her sister stood speechless, moving only her eyes from the phone screen to Bree. A rookie news anchor, Kaitlin Clark, cut in saying: “Just after noon today, a 21-year-old woman emerged from a restaurant across the street.” Kaitlin Clark turned and pointed to Hooter’s over her right shoulder. Bree’s dad rubbed the top of his head and cleared his throat. “Shhhh, here it comes, my name, you’ll see me walk away with the cops.” The news anchor continued “...the young woman, being in an intoxicated condition, fell into the center of an impressive cookie-box pyramid that four 9-year-old Girl Scouts had spent an hour constructing. Thin Mints, Caramel Delights, Peanut Butter Patties, and Thanks-A-Lots were some of the flavors that came crashing down on top of the Girl Scout’s heads. Troop 1881 leader, Betty Buckman, ran as fast as she could to save the girls but unfortunately she didn’t make it in time. Two girl scouts tumbled to the ground under the falling cookie boxes. Bree's’s sister covered her mouth and giggled. “What?? Y’all don’t understand. I’m famous! This is all over the internet. Don’t you see that I have gone viral?” The video continued: “The intoxicated woman was taken away in a police cruiser and the girl scout injuries are reported to be minor but the youngsters were taken to a nearby hospital out of an abundance of caution.” Bree turned the phone’s volume down saying, “No one even pressed charges! I just had to sober up and apologize to the kids…” Then she rushed her phone to a charger. “I have to share it now. This could reach a million views. All my platforms can do this. I know they can.” The family went back to bed. Bree stayed up refreshing and refreshing her view count. She dismissed unkind comments as jealousy. There were a lot of unkind, jealous comments. But, even the not-so-nice words elated her. There were a lot and that was what mattered most. She laid awake for hours until finally slipping off to sleep. The next day the excitement in Bree’s apartment faded. The view count, along with kind and unkind comments faded away too. Slowly. Do not be conformed to this world but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect - Romans 12:2. Thank you for reading! Love, Shelley #flashfiction

Hi Y’all, There’re just two weeks to go before Halloween arrives and already spooky things are happening. I wrote a spooky blog titled: Ditch the Koran. But someone implored me to keep it private. Darn, I really want(ed) to share it online (and did for a bit) but I obliged them and removed it. The contents contain plenty of sarcasm but hey, the basis is credible. Text or email me if you want to read it. Since I couldn’t share my first scary-blog choice (Ditch the Koran), I decided to share my second-scary blog choice: Gas-Powered Leaf Blowers Spooky things Do gas-powered leaf blowers frighten you? Does their smell, sound and filth day after day after day after day render you the least bit agitated? Taking a neighborhood stroll and expecting to maintain clear lungs, clean skin and a decent hair day is virtually impossible to do in the age of gas-powered leaf blowers. And humans aren’t the only ones gasping for clean neighborhood air. All living creature’s respiratory and integumentary systems are affected by gas-powered leaf blowers. Leaf blowers purport to be environmentally tidying things up when in fact they are leaving behind a bigger mess. Did you know that leaf blowers emit more carbon than a car? “Gas-powered leaf blowers emit an amount of carbon in one hour equal to a Toyota Camry driving for over 1,100 miles”. (34 Things to Know about Carbon and Climate) If your lungs, skin and hair don’t matter to you, does increasing your risk for cancer while simply strolling your neighborhood, a park, shopping center or anywhere and everywhere? Gas-powered leaf blowers emit carcinogenic compounds (benzene, butadiene and formaldehyde) into the environment and quite literally right into our homes. They also cause hearing stress and potential hearing loss (especially for the operators). Gas-powered leaf blowers not only wreak havoc on respiratory and integumentary processes, they also damage our auditory systems. In 2017 a report was published in the Journal of Environmental and Toxicological Studies. The study concluded that the sound emitted from a gas-powered leaf blower is a “low frequency noise that persists at high levels for about 800 feet from the source”. The study further states that “low frequency sound travels over long distances and penetrates walls and windows. Manufacturers report the sound levels from leaf blowers exceed 95 A-weighted decibels (dB(A)) at the ear of the operator and typically 65-80 dB(A) at 50 feet”. (Victoria News) --Who cares?-- Wait…they also harm eyes (so to speak). Have you ever seen birds flying through leaf blower carbon dioxide, non-methane hydrocarbons and nitrous oxide fumes? Have you seen chipmunks and squirrels scatter from leaf-blower reverberation? Or, dogs and cats dim in the haze. Full disclosure: I have a yard service too. Yes, our property looks vacuumed and white-gloved but are leaves and natural debris really that unappealing? Is a raucously vacuumed landscape worth cancer-causing chemicals? What about the ecosystem in general. Can it survive in the new, [fangled] landscape-order? Gas-powered leaf blowers are, admittedly, not as frightening as other scary stuff happening in the world lately. But they seemingly offer more harm than good. Save wildlife, pets and people from gas-powered leaf blowers. (I’ve asked our service provider to consider electric options and am also seeking out companies that don’t use gas-powered leaf blowers that I discovered on https://quietga.org/)? [Save Israel and God’s chosen people too!] Thank you for reading, Love, Shelley "33You shall not pollute the land in which you live, for blood pollutes the land, and no atonement can be made for the land for the blood that is shed in it, except by the blood of the one who shed it. 34 You shall not defile the land in which you live, in the midst of which I dwell for the Lord dwell in the midst of the people of Israel." Numbers 35:33-34

Hi Y’all, Was anyone else in stitches at The Fox Theatre last weekend? Jeff and I went to see Leanne Morgan: Just Getting Started. Hilarious! Leanne Morgan Leanne Morgan We happened upon Leanne on Netflix (I’m Every Woman) and decided to see her live at The Fox. How is it that all of a sudden we find ourselves at a stage in life where jokes having to do with old people make us laugh out loud? Where has the time gone? Leanne spoke about topics having to do with the likes of orthopedic shoes, cpap machines, aging bodies, memory loss, grandbabies, sex over 50, caring for elderly parents and much more...and we laughed, hard. If you like southern humor and southern ladies you’ll undoubtedly be entertained by Leanne’s wit and authentic delivery. One thing she talked about last Saturday night keeps crossing my mind (lemme tell you she strikes common cords): In the Netflix special (I’m Every Woman), Leanne shares a story about a 58-year-old divorced friend who is trying to “get out there and get a man.” Her friend hasn’t begun to date in the Netflix special but her hunt is on. During Leanne’s recent show (Just Getting Started) she shares happy news about the same friend finding someone to date and goes on to report how “lucky” the friend has been getting. Leanne talks about sultry, hysterical things her friend does to ignite sparks into her newfound, 58-year-old dating adventure. Things like sneaking tiny panties into the man’s suitcase when he travels for golf. And how difficult it must have been for the gentleman to concentrate on his game after discovering them. Remember the honeymoon stage y'all? Anyway, where I’m going with this is that Leanne reverts the conversation to herself and how she wears years-old-this-and-that to bed and around the house...never thinking to stick tiny panties in her husband's suitcase as he departs on a golf trip or any trip. She talks about the type of clothing she wears that should “probably have been thrown out years ago”. Leanne repeats, "I'm gonna try and do better; I'm gonna try and do better..." Relate? I, too, love some of my old, comfy stuff that I wear around the house...but I'm gonna try and do better... Indeed I loved the above joke. But my favorite overall part of Leanne Morgan is that she is a Christian. She effortlessly incorporates that fact with ease and grace. To learn more about Leanne check her out here! Thank you for reading! Love, Shelley A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance - Ecclesiastes 3-4

Is Chastain Park Amphitheatre one of the coolest venues on earth!? Reminds me of a modern day version of the Roman Theatre in Amman, Jordan. Add Psychedelic Furs and Squeeze to either of those two venues and you’ll go back in time with some great British rock hits. I always get the impression that artists who perform at Chastain Amphitheatre admire it as much as I do. Last night, Squeeze and Psychedelic Furs did their thing on stage. And, like so many artists that I've seen there before, they greeted the audience with admiration for Chastain Park. Jeff and I behaved like teenagers (not really) while Squeeze belted out their biggest hits (Goodbye Girl, Pulling Mussels, Tempted, Black Coffee in Bed, Annie Get Your Gun, etc.). Thank you to a friend who gave us their tix to this fun night ________________ Gosh, friends are my favorite thing in life. They’re the one thing, confessedly (is that a word) I do covet. Is it okay to covet dear friends? If not, scratch that. ________________ We hadn’t been to Chastain since our girls attended Sutton Middle School across the street from the park. Sutton’s yearly talent show was held on the incredible Chastain stage that also hosted mega-talented superstars. (Flashback…Andre Benjamin (Outkast) attended Sutton…I wonder if he had a talent gig on Chastain’s stage? Anyone know?) Back in Sutton Middle School days, parents packed dinners and margaritas to enjoy at tables in “the pit”. While watching our precious, semi-talented offspring reach for the stars (literally and figuratively) we indulged in such. Seriously, Sutton Middle School students were truly lucky to perform on that iconic stage. Last night was the first time I’ve attended a full-blown concert at Chastain (meaning the venue was not set up with dinner tables). Typically, I'd prefer to pack a dinner for the whole, picnic-style ensemble. Tables are a special experience but meal prep, transport, etc. is more work and energy which is hard to come by in your ‘60s. If it’s simply a concert you’re left with more get-up-and-go to dance, rock and enjoy. Both ways are a lot of fun though! Thanks for reading about our fun night at Chastain (#squeeze) last night! (Psst., Chicago will be there on Saturday, September 30.) Love, Shelley Squeeze Psychedelic Furs