I am finding contentment much more so lately in the printed word. I have become somewhat hooked on the works of Nancy B. Brewer. I posted last month on being introduced to her at a reenactment. I hadn’t planned the visit. I purchased her first book, Carolina Rain. Robin surprised me for Christmas with her two subsequent works. She found her online and phoned her personally, all unbeknownst to me. Never underestimate the power of fate. Nancy’s books can be found on Amazon for those interested or at her website. If the antebellum South is of any interest to you, she’s worth the read.
When my nose is not betwixt pages, the campground gym is still providing an interest, while conversations with new acquaintances and past friends continue to fill my cup of life. We have dined with Mike and Gail, Chester and Virginia, and as of late, Jackie and Rod, more residents of Lake In Wood, that are finding winter much better in South Carolina’s low country. However, never doubt that a ride to anywhere is still the main draw that stirs this gypsy. But now I wonder if it is genetic or a personality flaw of escapism. A line from Nancy’s second book, Beyond Sandy Ridge, reels in my mind. She pens that “gypsies never stay in one place long enough to know it’s grief.”
Where I need the interaction of people, Robin’s stimulation come more from the media hub. She loves the challenge of a video game, an I phone app, or the electronic companionship of television. Not even necessarily watching it, she enjoys the company of a voice from a distant location. Never before have we had problems scanning for networks since the installation of our digital TV. Scanning will usually find more stations that needed with just the raising of the batwing antenna. Not so however, on the shores of Willow Tree’s lakeside. Only one channel will scan. Not a problem during most days but when rain and clouds permeate the senses, reruns of TV from the 50’s will not suffice, not to mention the onset of the NFL playoffs.
Enter Jack Dilley. We befriended Jack and his better half, Dottie, last winter while we spent a month here. We were perched adjacent to their fifth-wheel. We 
found some common interest as their original home and summer haunt is not far from our children in New Jersey. Both Jack and Dottie are also avid golfers and we’ve enjoyed days on the links together. We are a few rows back from them this year but they’ve become friends that will remain for years, despite our locations. When Jack and I were commiserating over my lack of TV networks, he came to the rescue. His knock on the door surprised me early in the morning. There he stood with cable draped over one arm, a mobile satellite held by the other and a bag carrying a tripod and satellite “box”. He had and extra unit that he used for his TV outside their rig. Since the nights are cool, he has no need for them. He has bestowed us with their use for the next few months. In a span of fifteen minutes, Jack had the satellite on it’s tripod, cable run into the box and out to our TV. Robin was thrilled with the prospect of dozens of channels. I must admit that I would have been disappointed without the playoffs. Jack’s generosity goes beyond mere friendship. Again, I’m taken aback at the power of fate.
