I'm home again from four days in Lewes, Delaware, a beach town. (Lewes, by the way, is pronounced like the man's name, Louis.) I know I never got to the shore last summer. I had surgery on my left eye on Bastille Day, July 14th, and wasn't allowed on the beach (sand, sea water) or in a pool (pool water) that summer. I'm not sure about the summer of
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I accidentally ordered a soft shell crab sandwich while visiting with a friend in Maryland. First bite sort of grossed me out and I sent it back. *g*
Is your book the one by Jeff Shaara? I love his work.
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The "Gone to Soldiers" I read was by Marge Piercy and was written in the 70s. What baffles me is how I heard of it and where I bought. What I have is a very battered, very second hand paperback.
I might never have kept plugging at it if I hadn't had hours and hours to read. I ended up enjoying it greatly. FanSee
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Because I was tied up with my cane, I didn't take as many pictures as usual, and I missed some shots because I couldn't get my camera out quickly enough. Fortunately, Sam and Pam both shared their pictures with me. FanSee
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When I was little we lived in North Carolina. We went to the beach. This mean we went to the part of the state that had ocean or sound abutting it. But my friends from Baltimore to NYC all went to the shore.
When you are in the land that abuts the ocean or the sound and you are going to the waters edge, in the south, we had no word. But my Yankee-ish friends had beach. It was really confusing to me. But, we did not have pop or soda (just Coke or Pepsi) so we didn't have to have that fight.
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"You wanna a Coke?"
"Yeah."
"What kind?"
"Ginger ale."
FanSee
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