...it wasn't published in January. It was published three minutes ago. I'm a slacker.
Well, it's not really that I'm a slacker, it's more that life shifts its focus and things fall out of your day to day routine. And once they're gone, it's hard to get them back on the list of 'oh-yeah-I-need-to-do-that.' It's just life I suppose. Not a very deep or original thought, but there it is.
And then there's my blog. Once such a huge source of comfort and creativity for me. Blogging really isn't done anymore, most everyone has switched to vlogging instead. I'm not really comfortable in front of the camera, you just have to look at the pictures I take to figure that one out. And I don't have the equipment needed for a vlog anyway. Hell...if no one bothers to read what you have to say why put it out there in a video? Who'd watch??? (Don't answer that...it would be weirdos, I know.)
So that leaves me a bit stymied as to how I should handle things. I don't want to end the blog, because I enjoy looking back at the old posts and pictures...but I'm not updating it as regularly as I could/should be. This blog has always been real outlet for me...and it's so much cheaper than therapy.
Anyway! The long and the short of it is...life changes.
till next time,
HistoryDiva
Showing posts with label Honesty: Straight Up No Twist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Honesty: Straight Up No Twist. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 26, 2017
Sunday, September 11, 2016
Fifteen Years
I originally posted these thoughts on September 11, 2008, seven years after that terrible fall day.
Today, fifteen years after the events of September 11, 2001, I feel that these memories are even more poignant and valuable.
Not only was America forever changed by these events, but we now live in a world that would be unrecognizable to the people we were before 8:46 am that Tuesday morning.
I dedicate this post to the memory of everyone we lost that day. You are still missed. You are still mourned. We carry you in our hearts.
Christine Lee Hanson was born on February 22, 1999. A bright-eyed and inquisitive toddler, she attended Knowledge Beginnings, an early learning center in Chelmsford, Massachusetts. She was the only child of Peter and Sue Hanson of Groton, Massachusetts.
At age two, Christine became the youngest victim of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks.
Christine and her parents were on their way to California for a trip to Disneyland and a visit with relatives when their flight, United Airlines flight 175, was hijacked and flown into the south tower of the World Trade Center.
The young family has been honored with various memorials throughout the United States. In 2002 Sue Hanson was posthumously awarded a doctorate degree in Pathology from Boston University, which has established an annual lecture to be held on September 11 in Sue’s honor. In 2003 Northeastern University established an annual lecture series and scholarship in Peter Hanson’s name, and the Boston University Medical Center dedicated a pediatrics treatment room to the Hansons. And in 2005, Connecticut’s Beardsley Zoo opened the Hanson Exploration Station, a state-of-the-art educational and corporate meeting space named in the Hanson’s honor.
In 2003 an orchestral elegy titled Christine’s Lullaby was written to honor the memory of Christine Lee Hanson and you can listen to it here.
Christine is survived by her grandparents, Eunice and Lee Hanson of Easton, Connecticut, and her great-grandmother, Ok-Hee Kim of California.
A memorial website for the family can be found here.
2,996 men, women, and children lost their lives on September 11, 2001.
2,996.
As I have mentioned before, there are things I don’t talk about on this blog. I leave my past where it is. I avoid what I find painful. And this is one of the most painful things I have ever been through. But I feel that it is time that I talk about this, and I hope that in doing so I can honor the memory of Christine Lee Hanson.
On the morning of September 11, 2001 I was getting ready for class. I was in my first semester at a local community college. It was a Tuesday. I had a 2600 level Environmental Science lab, a German language course, and a literature class that day.
As per my usual morning routine I had wandered around the house in my pajamas while eating breakfast and wasted a few minutes watching mindless television while waiting for my hair to dry after my shower.
I got up, and got dressed…jeans, sneakers, a tee-shirt and a hoodie…the usual.
I’m not sure why but it is an understood custom in my parent’s house that no matter what you were watching and no matter what time of day it was you put the television back on our local ABC affiliate station before turning it off.
So I did.
And I don’t really remember when exactly the tears started rolling down my face. And I don’t really remember dropping the remote from my suddenly limp fingers though I remember distinctly the sound of it hitting the floor and the cover of the battery compartment popping loose. I don’t remember when exactly I stopped breathing, but I do remember that when I started again I inhaled raggedly and choked on a sob.
I was just…numb. All I could do was stare at the television screen…at the images of horror happening live.
The phone rang. I turned and looked at the small black handset resting in the cradle. It rang again. It was my mother. Her voice was comforting, her words calming, her tone reassuring. I was fine, she was fine, WE were fine, go to class.
I drove mechanically, my thoughts swimming. I turned on the radio. News everywhere, more planes, more fires, the Pentagon, a field in Pennsylvania.
I parked and walked inside. The classroom was noisy. Friendly chatter, laughing….they didn’t know.
“Turn on a radio. Get to a news website.” I told them.
And they did.
And silence fell. And tears came. And a classroom full of relative strangers clung to each other for support, giving comfort, giving encouragement. More people filled the lab room, crowding in, watching, listening. What did it mean? What should we do? Stay here? Go home? We looked to the professor for guidance. She was weeping.
Somewhere in the room a pager went off. A student, a young man, tall, blond, upright, stood and walked to the door. He turned to the professor. He said he was in the Army Reserve and that they had just paged him. He had to report for duty. The professor clung to him for a moment, her grief in plain sight. The room was quiet as we all stared.
He turned to us. Slowly looked at each tear stained face. He saluted his fellow students, turned and walked from the room. I have never seen him again but I will never forget the look in his eyes that day.
All classes were canceled.
Students wandered the campus aimlessly…hugging friends, hugging strangers.
The American flag standing in the center of the campus danced on the light fall breeze.
I went home. I felt useless. I felt lost.
I felt lucky.
I lived in Georgia. My family had called from all over the country. We were all alive and accounted for.
I felt guilty…because I lived in Georgia and my whole family was fine.
The rest of that day is blurred in my memory. But I know that it was a day that seemed to have no end. Minutes dragged. Hours stretched. America mourned.
Television stations suspended broadcasting and went off the air. Black screens with messages of sorrow. Others cancelled regular programming to allow for new coverage to expand…30 channels…all live…all smoke and flames and sirens and rubble.
At midnight I turned the television off and crawled into my bed, feeling like I had been beaten.
The next day dawned.
And the next.
And the next.
Smoke slowly cleared.
Rubble was slowly moved.
And America rose from the ashes.
So, dear Christine, there you have it. My memories of that day pulled from their hiding place and put onto this blog. I’m sorry there isn’t more I can share. I’m sorry that time has clouded things and made me forget the details. But perhaps it is better for both of us that these feelings are somewhat blurred at the edges now.
I have books on my shelves at home that have the images of that day inside them. Maybe someday I’ll be able to open one and look inside instead of letting them sit there, side by side on that bottom shelf, and quietly gather dust. Maybe someday.
And maybe someday, if I’m lucky, my life will be blessed with a little girl like you. And I’ll hug her and play with her and teach her about the world just like your mommy and daddy taught you. And someday, when she’s old enough to understand, I’ll tell her about you and your parents. I’ll tell her what happened that day. I’ll hold her close as we look at those pictures and I’ll do my best to help her understand that we still don’t really understand why there are such bad people in this world. And I’ll do my best to tell her what this wonderful country was like before that day, back in the days when you ran on the grass under the summer sunshine and watched Blue’s Clues and Bear in the Big Blue House and drank apple juice and ate Cheerios.
I promise I’ll do my best, Christine.
But most of all, dear Christine, I promise that I’ll never forget.
Today, fifteen years after the events of September 11, 2001, I feel that these memories are even more poignant and valuable.
Not only was America forever changed by these events, but we now live in a world that would be unrecognizable to the people we were before 8:46 am that Tuesday morning.
I dedicate this post to the memory of everyone we lost that day. You are still missed. You are still mourned. We carry you in our hearts.
 |
| Freedom Tower - One World Trade |
Christine Lee Hanson was born on February 22, 1999. A bright-eyed and inquisitive toddler, she attended Knowledge Beginnings, an early learning center in Chelmsford, Massachusetts. She was the only child of Peter and Sue Hanson of Groton, Massachusetts.
At age two, Christine became the youngest victim of the September 11, 2001 terrorist attacks.
Christine and her parents were on their way to California for a trip to Disneyland and a visit with relatives when their flight, United Airlines flight 175, was hijacked and flown into the south tower of the World Trade Center.
The young family has been honored with various memorials throughout the United States. In 2002 Sue Hanson was posthumously awarded a doctorate degree in Pathology from Boston University, which has established an annual lecture to be held on September 11 in Sue’s honor. In 2003 Northeastern University established an annual lecture series and scholarship in Peter Hanson’s name, and the Boston University Medical Center dedicated a pediatrics treatment room to the Hansons. And in 2005, Connecticut’s Beardsley Zoo opened the Hanson Exploration Station, a state-of-the-art educational and corporate meeting space named in the Hanson’s honor.
In 2003 an orchestral elegy titled Christine’s Lullaby was written to honor the memory of Christine Lee Hanson and you can listen to it here.
Christine is survived by her grandparents, Eunice and Lee Hanson of Easton, Connecticut, and her great-grandmother, Ok-Hee Kim of California.
A memorial website for the family can be found here.
*****
2,996 men, women, and children lost their lives on September 11, 2001.
2,996.
As I have mentioned before, there are things I don’t talk about on this blog. I leave my past where it is. I avoid what I find painful. And this is one of the most painful things I have ever been through. But I feel that it is time that I talk about this, and I hope that in doing so I can honor the memory of Christine Lee Hanson.
*****
On the morning of September 11, 2001 I was getting ready for class. I was in my first semester at a local community college. It was a Tuesday. I had a 2600 level Environmental Science lab, a German language course, and a literature class that day.
As per my usual morning routine I had wandered around the house in my pajamas while eating breakfast and wasted a few minutes watching mindless television while waiting for my hair to dry after my shower.
I got up, and got dressed…jeans, sneakers, a tee-shirt and a hoodie…the usual.
I’m not sure why but it is an understood custom in my parent’s house that no matter what you were watching and no matter what time of day it was you put the television back on our local ABC affiliate station before turning it off.
So I did.
And I don’t really remember when exactly the tears started rolling down my face. And I don’t really remember dropping the remote from my suddenly limp fingers though I remember distinctly the sound of it hitting the floor and the cover of the battery compartment popping loose. I don’t remember when exactly I stopped breathing, but I do remember that when I started again I inhaled raggedly and choked on a sob.
I was just…numb. All I could do was stare at the television screen…at the images of horror happening live.
The phone rang. I turned and looked at the small black handset resting in the cradle. It rang again. It was my mother. Her voice was comforting, her words calming, her tone reassuring. I was fine, she was fine, WE were fine, go to class.
I drove mechanically, my thoughts swimming. I turned on the radio. News everywhere, more planes, more fires, the Pentagon, a field in Pennsylvania.
I parked and walked inside. The classroom was noisy. Friendly chatter, laughing….they didn’t know.
“Turn on a radio. Get to a news website.” I told them.
And they did.
And silence fell. And tears came. And a classroom full of relative strangers clung to each other for support, giving comfort, giving encouragement. More people filled the lab room, crowding in, watching, listening. What did it mean? What should we do? Stay here? Go home? We looked to the professor for guidance. She was weeping.
Somewhere in the room a pager went off. A student, a young man, tall, blond, upright, stood and walked to the door. He turned to the professor. He said he was in the Army Reserve and that they had just paged him. He had to report for duty. The professor clung to him for a moment, her grief in plain sight. The room was quiet as we all stared.
He turned to us. Slowly looked at each tear stained face. He saluted his fellow students, turned and walked from the room. I have never seen him again but I will never forget the look in his eyes that day.
All classes were canceled.
Students wandered the campus aimlessly…hugging friends, hugging strangers.
The American flag standing in the center of the campus danced on the light fall breeze.
I went home. I felt useless. I felt lost.
I felt lucky.
I lived in Georgia. My family had called from all over the country. We were all alive and accounted for.
I felt guilty…because I lived in Georgia and my whole family was fine.
The rest of that day is blurred in my memory. But I know that it was a day that seemed to have no end. Minutes dragged. Hours stretched. America mourned.
Television stations suspended broadcasting and went off the air. Black screens with messages of sorrow. Others cancelled regular programming to allow for new coverage to expand…30 channels…all live…all smoke and flames and sirens and rubble.
At midnight I turned the television off and crawled into my bed, feeling like I had been beaten.
The next day dawned.
And the next.
And the next.
Smoke slowly cleared.
Rubble was slowly moved.
And America rose from the ashes.
*****
So, dear Christine, there you have it. My memories of that day pulled from their hiding place and put onto this blog. I’m sorry there isn’t more I can share. I’m sorry that time has clouded things and made me forget the details. But perhaps it is better for both of us that these feelings are somewhat blurred at the edges now.
I have books on my shelves at home that have the images of that day inside them. Maybe someday I’ll be able to open one and look inside instead of letting them sit there, side by side on that bottom shelf, and quietly gather dust. Maybe someday.
And maybe someday, if I’m lucky, my life will be blessed with a little girl like you. And I’ll hug her and play with her and teach her about the world just like your mommy and daddy taught you. And someday, when she’s old enough to understand, I’ll tell her about you and your parents. I’ll tell her what happened that day. I’ll hold her close as we look at those pictures and I’ll do my best to help her understand that we still don’t really understand why there are such bad people in this world. And I’ll do my best to tell her what this wonderful country was like before that day, back in the days when you ran on the grass under the summer sunshine and watched Blue’s Clues and Bear in the Big Blue House and drank apple juice and ate Cheerios.
I promise I’ll do my best, Christine.
But most of all, dear Christine, I promise that I’ll never forget.
Monday, December 14, 2015
So, what with one thing and another...
Well, I went on vacation. And it was lovely. And there will be more about it later because I need to get my act in gear and get all the pictures off my phone in anticipation of entertaining blog posts and possibly getting a new phone!
And then November just kinda got away from me.
Things have been busy!
So...if I don't manage to get an update posted till after Christmas...well...oh well!
love and kisses,
- HistoryDiva
And then November just kinda got away from me.
Things have been busy!
So...if I don't manage to get an update posted till after Christmas...well...oh well!
love and kisses,
- HistoryDiva
Sunday, November 1, 2015
The Misadventures of Midget
Hi there! I'm catching up on some 'back dated' entries that I have saved as drafts in the background/editing area of the blog. Might as well tidy up a bit while I'm poking around!
love and kisses,
HistoryDiva
April 27, 2017
This story is...not a new one, but that's okay. The original content of this post (the pictures) are about two years old now.
From late 2013 to early 2014 I traveled with my aunt and uncle for over a month (one week a month for four months), meaning that between work and travel it seemed like I wasn't home that often. After returning home from one of these trips I noticed that my cat was looking...unwell.
My normally healthy furball was noticeably thin. He'd become very clingy, needing lots of attention and affection and got visibly upset if we were in the house but beyond his reach (i.e. in the bathroom). He also got very chatty, vocalizing more than ever before.
Turns out...he'd become diabetic. This condition may have been looming on the horizon for him anyway, as he's always been a big cat, but the stress caused by my extended absence seems to have caused been enough to trigger it fully.
So after lots of blood work, and tests, and overnight stays at the vet's office...he's now medicated and on a special diet and has somehow gotten back up to 18 lbs on just a 1/2 cup of food a day.
love and kisses,
HistoryDiva
April 27, 2017
This story is...not a new one, but that's okay. The original content of this post (the pictures) are about two years old now.
From late 2013 to early 2014 I traveled with my aunt and uncle for over a month (one week a month for four months), meaning that between work and travel it seemed like I wasn't home that often. After returning home from one of these trips I noticed that my cat was looking...unwell.
So I took him to see our local vet.
Turns out...he'd become diabetic. This condition may have been looming on the horizon for him anyway, as he's always been a big cat, but the stress caused by my extended absence seems to have caused been enough to trigger it fully.
So after lots of blood work, and tests, and overnight stays at the vet's office...he's now medicated and on a special diet and has somehow gotten back up to 18 lbs on just a 1/2 cup of food a day.
Friday, October 30, 2015
Hi There!
So...I was totally supposed to be DONE posting about my trip to NC last year and on to other adventures by this time but its actually been a bit hectic around here and that just hasn't happened. Sorry about that!
Maybe I'll be able to catch up next week!
Or...maybe I'll go on vacation instead...
smooches,
- HistoryDiva
Maybe I'll be able to catch up next week!
Or...maybe I'll go on vacation instead...
- HistoryDiva
Wednesday, October 21, 2015
Hideaway in the Hills: A Mountain Vacation - Day Three
Hi there! I'm catching up on some 'back dated' entries that I have saved as drafts in the background/editing area of the blog. Might as well tidy up a bit while I'm poking around!
love and kisses,
HistoryDiva
April 26, 2017
Day Three of our trip to the mountains, February 24, 2014.
Today we took in some more of the local color and did the 'tourist' thing...which totally means we hit up a State Park.
Our first stop was....Blowing Rock State Park.
This place blows. (See what I did there??) I mean that literally. The park is located at one end of a long valley that just funnels wind like crazy! There is an old Native American legend about that rocky ledge you'll see in the upper left of the first picture, all about a brave warrior and a maiden. I'd tell it here, but then you'd have nothing to Google later!
It was a beautiful spot to be on a sunny, late winter afternoon. But it was a bit on the 'seriously chilly' side that day...as illustrated below by my aunt who is wearing six or seven layers.
One of the other attractions in the area are what is know as the 'Church of the Frescos' locations. Years ago an artist traveling in the area was commissioned by several area churches to paint religious frescos in their chapels. These are small, out of the way area churches. The communities which support these churches leave the doors to the buildings unlocked so that folks can come in to view the frescos and have a quiet moment or two the lord.
The paintings are beautiful and moving...but to me, taking a picture of something like that just seems...wrong somehow. So instead, I found a fantastically fun stained glass window which depicted the Ark and lookit...
One of my favorite highlights of all my family's yearly vacation road trip to visit the grandparents was getting to stop at the New River Gorge overlook in West Virginia.
If you ever get the chance to visit, stop and take a look...it's the most beautiful, peaceful place I've ever been.
So you can imagine my surprise when my uncle let me know that the river we were driving along was...the New River! It was like running into an old friend unexpectedly and made my day.
Our last stop of the day was Ashe County Cheese, a local dairy.
They store their milk in...GIGANTIC COWS!!!
love and kisses,
HistoryDiva
April 26, 2017
Day Three of our trip to the mountains, February 24, 2014.
Today we took in some more of the local color and did the 'tourist' thing...which totally means we hit up a State Park.
Our first stop was....Blowing Rock State Park.
This place blows. (See what I did there??) I mean that literally. The park is located at one end of a long valley that just funnels wind like crazy! There is an old Native American legend about that rocky ledge you'll see in the upper left of the first picture, all about a brave warrior and a maiden. I'd tell it here, but then you'd have nothing to Google later!
It was a beautiful spot to be on a sunny, late winter afternoon. But it was a bit on the 'seriously chilly' side that day...as illustrated below by my aunt who is wearing six or seven layers.
One of the other attractions in the area are what is know as the 'Church of the Frescos' locations. Years ago an artist traveling in the area was commissioned by several area churches to paint religious frescos in their chapels. These are small, out of the way area churches. The communities which support these churches leave the doors to the buildings unlocked so that folks can come in to view the frescos and have a quiet moment or two the lord.
The paintings are beautiful and moving...but to me, taking a picture of something like that just seems...wrong somehow. So instead, I found a fantastically fun stained glass window which depicted the Ark and lookit...
STAINED GLASS TURTLES!!!
One of my favorite highlights of all my family's yearly vacation road trip to visit the grandparents was getting to stop at the New River Gorge overlook in West Virginia.
If you ever get the chance to visit, stop and take a look...it's the most beautiful, peaceful place I've ever been.
So you can imagine my surprise when my uncle let me know that the river we were driving along was...the New River! It was like running into an old friend unexpectedly and made my day.
Our last stop of the day was Ashe County Cheese, a local dairy.
They store their milk in...GIGANTIC COWS!!!
Day. Made.
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
Hideaway in the Hills: A Mountain Vacation - Day Two
Hi there! I'm catching up on some 'back dated' entries that I have saved as drafts in the background/editing area of the blog. Might as well tidy up a bit while I'm poking around!
love and kisses,
HistoryDiva
April 26, 2017
Day Two of our Mountain trip, February 23, 2014. We decided that scenery was the main requirement of the day and poked about twisty mountain back roads all afternoon before stopping for a very late lunch at a roadside dinner...where we caused quite a stir because tourists don't usually stop there!
love and kisses,
HistoryDiva
April 26, 2017
Day Two of our Mountain trip, February 23, 2014. We decided that scenery was the main requirement of the day and poked about twisty mountain back roads all afternoon before stopping for a very late lunch at a roadside dinner...where we caused quite a stir because tourists don't usually stop there!
Monday, October 19, 2015
Hideaway in the Hills: A Mountain Vacation - Day One
The retirees loaded me up for another week of vacation in February of 2014 and this time we headed north, to the mountains of North Carolina.
So guess what all of the posts this week are going to include....?
Yep, mountains.
love and kisses,
- HistoryDiva
So guess what all of the posts this week are going to include....?
Yep, mountains.
love and kisses,
- HistoryDiva
Friday, October 16, 2015
A Trip to the Sunshine State - Day Seven
The sun rose nice and early on our last full day in FL, and thanks to the electric toothbrush alarm clock I got to witness another lovely sunrise.
Yeah...really starting to hate that toothbrush.
Anyway! It was a beautiful day...
Our itinerary for the day included an excursion to...a couple of State Parks! (Surprise!)
First up, Falling Waters State Park, home to the only naturally occurring waterfall in the state of FL. Also home to the tallest hill in FL, but more about that later.
First: SINKHOLES!!
This entire place (waterfall included) exists because this area of FL is prone to sinkholes. Not really a comforting discovery when you're standing around reading a sign...
love and kisses,
- HistoryDiva
Yeah...really starting to hate that toothbrush.
Anyway! It was a beautiful day...
Our itinerary for the day included an excursion to...a couple of State Parks! (Surprise!)
First up, Falling Waters State Park, home to the only naturally occurring waterfall in the state of FL. Also home to the tallest hill in FL, but more about that later.
First: SINKHOLES!!
This entire place (waterfall included) exists because this area of FL is prone to sinkholes. Not really a comforting discovery when you're standing around reading a sign...
The locals harnessed the power of the river to grind corn. A practice they quickly gave up on when they discovered that they could just make whiskey instead.
"Ah history, you funny cause you true."
Limestone + Water = Sinkhole.
Boom!
Now you don't have to read that sign.
To sum up again: Limestone + Water = Sinkhole.
Dear Tourist,
Sinkholes are dangerous.
Smooches,
FL
I have to admit I was delighted to discover that Sparkleberry is actually a real thing!
As opposed to just being a My Little Pony.
And yes...I was also hoping to run across a Glitter bush, just to make it a matched set.
What? Inside I'm like 12.
Oh, and I found a neat bug!
But he didn't want to be friends.
He just kinda looked at me and then tried really hard to pretend he was a leaf.
Jerk.
And then I found the waterfall!
And it was lovely. And peaceful.
And just a little bit scary...cause to get to it you have to climb down a bunch of steps suspended from a hillside in an area prone to sinkholes and then stand on a platform suspended over the sinkhole that the waterfall cascades into and they don't actually know how deep the hole is because NOBODY has managed to repel all the way to the bottom yet.
My uncle...the electric toothbrush owner.
But he's like...the greatest uncle ever.
So I just accept that the electric toothbrush thing is a quirk.
My aunt.
She's fabulous.
And we have an amazing relationship.
Her kids are jealous cause she likes me best.
The wall of the waterfall, covered in lichens.
Now on to the other highlight of this particular state park.
The tallest hill in the entire state of FL.
At the top of this hill you are higher above sea level than ANYWHERE else in the state.
Ta-da!
What?
That's it...back there...that little swell of trees and dirt just beyond the parking lot.
It's 324 feet above sea level.
Don't everybody crowd up during the flood.
*****
Our next stop was Florida Caverns State Park, home to the only known cave system in the state of FL...because SINKHOLES!!!
Actually, no. But a girl's gotta tie things together somehow.
Anyway! Since I have some mild claustrophobia issues now (side effect of other adventures), I decide to do everyone in the tour group a favor and NOT spend the next hour underground.
I wandered through the visitor's center instead. And there, amongst the displays about FL natural history and Native Tribes, I found a video of a trip through the caverns created expressly for people like me who are all "hey, that's super neat but no thank you."
It was both entertaining AND informative.
But that's not what I enjoyed the most about this particular state park.
You see...down at the other end of the room was a display all about local wildlife.
And you guys???
THERE WERE TURTLES!!!
This is Linda, one of the park volunteers.
She introduced me to all of her shell-loving buddies.
I giggled like an idiot.
Linda was super okay with it.
We're like BFFs now.
So thanks for the adventures, Panama City Beach!
Maybe I'll come back for another visit when it's warm!
love and kisses,
- HistoryDiva
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