There comes a time to stop blogging...by Paula Neal Mooney
...and to sleep in late and sit with your kids and try to teach them the right way to play Monopoly. But then the nuances of too much family togetherness set in...the winter walls begin to close in, and I escape to the sitting room...to the computer that beckons me to blog...
There will come a day when I leave the comfy comfines of my near-Bath Township home in my how-green-was-my-Ohio-valley neighborhood and visit the real Bath, England, of its namesake that I often think of, and take a bath in Bath and feel the presence of my Lord and Savior in one of those old cathedrals built by folks who could be sawed in half for believing in Christ.
To wander the Christmas golden-lit streets, smell the smells, listen to the strange affectations. Then return to some hospice/hotel and the comfy comfines of my laptop and blog about it all...
Bookmark http://www.paulamooney.blogspot.com/ to discover the day my dreams of England come true...
...and to sleep in late and sit with your kids and try to teach them the right way to play Monopoly. But then the nuances of too much family togetherness set in...the winter walls begin to close in, and I escape to the sitting room...to the computer that beckons me to blog...
There will come a day when I leave the comfy comfines of my near-Bath Township home in my how-green-was-my-Ohio-valley neighborhood and visit the real Bath, England, of its namesake that I often think of, and take a bath in Bath and feel the presence of my Lord and Savior in one of those old cathedrals built by folks who could be sawed in half for believing in Christ.
To wander the Christmas golden-lit streets, smell the smells, listen to the strange affectations. Then return to some hospice/hotel and the comfy comfines of my laptop and blog about it all...
Bookmark http://www.paulamooney.blogspot.com/ to discover the day my dreams of England come true...
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