I alluded to the fact of not quite explaining our move to the Gulf coast recently, yet I’ve posted picture after picture of some of the amazing views of our new life in Mobile. There’s a story, of course, and it kind of begins with my book, My Badass Book of Saints, which features St. Rose of Lima in one of the chapters, and ends with building a dream cottage on the water.
Or maybe, that’s where the story begins.
We’ve settled into a life of retirement, and although I always promised myself that when I retired I would sleep until noon, it’s impossible to sleep past 6:00 AM around here. First of all, the sun finds my eyes at just about 5:55 AM. It wakes me enough to clamp a pillow over my face, but I’m lucid enough to hear the Angelus bells ring at the little church nearby, so I’m out of luck. Or in luck. Or actually, blessed to be called to prayer. Ain’t no going back to sleep after that.
It’s a tough life. I highly recommend it.
The church is named St. Rose of Lima, and were it not for St. Rose, I’d still be teaching college, and we’d still be telling Otis to quit chasing squirrels. It happens that while on a weekend getaway to the area, we were looking for a church and picked St. Rose because, well, I’d just finished writing about her. My husband was looking for a church and when he saw the name he thought he’d surprise me.
Boy, did he surprise me. It turns out, there was a for sale sign in the area, and before we knew it, we were moving into this house he built in a year. There’s more, but I’m kind of holding onto that for a while.
In the meantime, I’m writing books instead of teaching college. And Otis? Well he gave up squirrels. Now he’s chasing pelicans.