Tag: Reflections

Posted in Five Friday Happy Bringers

Five Friday Happy Bringers 4/10/26

Posted on by Neal Saye

My weekly gratitude journal, of sorts.

1. These incredible crab legs at the Tin Fin seafood restaurant near where we are staying for the week in Effingham County GA.

I just opted for a pound, but HR got the “All You Can Eat” Tuesday night deal.

2. Making new friends at Hunter Cattle Company near Statesboro GA.

Especially a friendly cow I named Betsy.

Here’s Betsy and HR co-starring in a little independent film I produced and directed, Good Moo Hunting.

3. Enjoying our last fire (probably) of the season at the farmhouse in southeast Georgia where we are staying this week.

Benny in my lap, both of us snoozing.

4. The amazing ability to remember.

5. Sensational cinnamon rolls from Ally’s Bakery in Rincon GA.

May you roll joyfully this weekend.

Posted in Tuesday Truth

Tuesday Truth: 3/31/26 “But?

Posted on by Neal Saye

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“But did you die?”

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On a bumper sticker Robert and I saw the other day as we were driving along Henry Street here in Savannah.

Oh my goodness, did that question and its underlying truth ever hit home!

I often find myself complaining about the LEAST little thing: “If only the temperature could be about five degrees cooler today!”

Or “I just HATE getting a stomach ache!”

But …

Posted in Thursday Doors

Thursday Doors: “Doors of Wellness” 3/26/27

Posted on by Neal Saye

Some years ago I came across two positive quotations which gradually have become a type of “doors” for my mental and physical health. If I remember correctly, I heard them from motivational author and speaker Louise Hays.

“My body knows how to be well and is always trying to move toward wellness.”

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“I listen with love to my body’s messages.”

Both exude such a rightness to me.

I have come to believe that our bodies are more than what we usually think they are. They have a “knowingness” and a “protectiveness” built into their very nature.

They tell us, for example, when we have been eating unhealthfully, and in the very telling, try to persuade us otherwise.

Or our bodies might alert us with shortness of breath or a sudden feeling of “something’s not right” when we are in the shadow of un-safety.

So yes, our bodies want us to be well AND to do a better job of listening to them.

They may seem small, but what wonderfully encouraging “doors” they are.

Posted in My Saturday Evening Post

My Saturday Evening Post: 2/7/25  “A Farmhouse Goodbye”

Posted on by Neal Saye

So yesterday, Robert and I cleaned up the old farmhouse in Southeast Georgia where we have been staying for the last month while our downtown Savannah place was being renovated.

Did the last of the laundry (no dryer) …

I actually enjoyed (well, for a temporary time) the sensation of hanging wet washing on the clotheslines among the Spanish Moss.

We started loading boxes and bags in the kitchen for the return trip.

Looked down and saw him …

Benny in the Box.

He was ready to go home.

Enjoyed our last fire (the place had no central heat).

Enjoyed our unusual but FUN time in the snow a couple of days ago…

Sampled the “attractions” in the tiny town of Springfield GA (pop. 2,874) …

Our favorite Coffee/Bakery/Breakfast place …

And outdoor in January grilling and eating between the cold spells.

A Joyous Adventure. Thank you, Universe/God/Whomever for Such a Splendid Stay.

And that’s My Saturday Evening Post.

Saturday Evening Post
Saturday Evening Post
Posted in In Our Own Backyard

Slightly Swaying but NOT Shivering Magnolia

Posted on by Neal Saye

It is COLD here at the OLD farmhouse where Robert and I are staying for a few weeks.

When I woke up this morn, the temp was 21 with a Real Feel of 14.

Oh my goodness!

This is Savannah, NOT Alaska.

Back off, Winter!

When I looked out the screen door (Doesn’t that sound country-ish?), I saw her, standing resolutely, albeit shivering in the cold. A young, perhaps teen, Southern Magnolia tree.

I just felt so sorry for her. Until she said, a bit loudly I thought for early morning, “Don’t pity me, sir. I’m fine, more than fine. I’m a Steel Magnolia.”

And then I realized that she wasn’t shivering at all — she was dancing.

I asked if I could film her. She sighed, but I could tell she was game. She gave me her permission.

Even with her youth, she looked so at ease, at one with her world. Confident of her place, her space, her bearing.

And even though I’m old enough to be her grandfather (if I were a tree), I felt like I should ask her something.

But, finally, I didn’t. I just stood there watching, warmed and encouraged by her presence.