What a difference a few weeks make. Three weeks ago, I got a phone call after I returned to the office from court. It was the mother of one of my clients. She was extremely agitated because her baby wasn't in court that morning. She didn't know that the court had changed the court date. Now, she wanted her money back and a new lawyer to boot. Now, her son's case is resolved, there is an end in sight, and she feels like things might someday return to normal. He is still in jail, but there is light at the end of the tunnel.
A friend of mine, when asked if he wanted his rent on a rental house paid in cash or check, replied, "I just want a promise of payment."
Promises of payment are great, but the grocery store won't cash them for you when you want to buy groceries. But, on the other hand, I still have a few more promises in my pocket.
The sun is out though. Things look a little bit better. On Saturday we drive to Charleston and start eating our annual allowance of seafood. It ain't Apalachicola, Florida, but Charleston will do.
Nicely. I am already counting the shells. Oysters and beer. Shrimp and grits. Watching the waves hit the beach. Strolling down the historic sidewalks of Charleston, South Carolina. The ghosts of pirates and colonists and confederate soldiers sharing their spot overlooking the ocean and Charleston Bay. How else should one celebrate this day of Thanksgiving? I am thankful already.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment