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A Good Home

Sunrise light awakened me this morning washing my childhood bedroom walls an orangey, pinkish hue.  My first thought was how many times have I done this… met a new day from this bed from which I now sit in and type?  The sun comes over the pond, its arms pushing through pine trees, one very large magnolia tree, over the patch of azaleas and right into my upstairs window.  This particular day, reaching me with an invitation to remember and be grateful.   I’ve written about home before… this home, my home as a Sanders … but as I realize these days, waking up in this bed, looking out this window won’t go on forever, sentiment overtakes, and I write.  Even though they aren’t the most admired tree, I will always love pines.  My hometown was officially nicknamed, “The Millions Pines City”.  If I were an amazing writer, I’d stop and research the history of this but coffee will be brewing soon downstairs and what girl has time for research when her daddy is waiting to have a cup with her?  Pin

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