Knoxville still feels like home to us.  After living in a handful of different cities and states, coming back to Knoxville feels like home.  Our families and friends are there.  Our church is there.  Friends that we’ve had for years, and other friends that, even if we haven’t known them for very long, they are forever friends.

Making friends in a new place is like starting from scratch.  There are no connections, no common ground, no friends in common.

Last week we took a road trip that ended in Knoxville.  Our friend and matchmaker, Joe, got married to a lovely girl that I’ve known since middle school.  I love that connectivity. We stopped in the Outer Banks for me to frolic on the beach, in Boone to hug Ruby (and Meg and Tim), and in the mountains for Gregg to frolic in the Smokies.  (Picturing Gregg frolicking is really funny to me.)

We went home to Knoxville, and came back home, to the Eastern Shore.  Not really sure where home is.  Maybe its good to have more than one?

A the end of our trip, we were unloading our car after our 10 hour road trip across Virginia when we noticed a cute letter neatly tied to our door.  It was from our neighbor inviting us over for drinks.  Also, this week I have my first book club gathering, and Gregg is meeting with a friend to talk sheep, cows, and milk-shares.  Several nice little gifts awaited us upon our return to the Shore.

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