Brenda Cannon Henley's archive

I had what some might term a very uncomfortable experience last Thursday at our local Galveston Island Walmart. My husband, Ted, is quite the shopper, and he always stays in the stores longer than I want to be there, so I usually take a book along with me and read while I wait for him. There is usually at least two or three benches near the doorways of the bigger stores and I don’t mind at all sitting, reading or chatting with a new friend I’ve met that is waiting on someone, too.

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A few weeks ago, I wrote a column about an interesting spectacle I witnessed while fishing with my husband in our boat on Galveston Bay. I love watching all of God’s creatures do their thing, and I have learned so much while on the water. It is thrilling to get a bit of understanding as to how creation and creatures all work together for the common good. This education is so much more fun when one is seeing in reality what actually takes place on and in the water that literally surrounds us here on the Bolivar Peninsula.

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While riding down the highway the other day, I made an interesting discovery. Looking down into my lap, I noticed that my hands looked old. I was startled. I don’t feel old. My kids don’t think I act old. My friends think I dress fashionably enough … well, for playing on the beach, anyway.

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On a recent trip to Georgia to visit my relatives and to take care of some pressing business, I learned a valuable lesson from my longtime sister in law, Teresa Fowler Stancil. We have been in the same family for more than 40 years and have shared much humor, some illness, hundreds of Scrabble games, lots of other good times, a few sad ones, child rearing secrets, and years of life experiences. She is quite the teacher and I have found myself gleaning tidbits from her vast table of knowledge.

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No one puts on a show like Mother Nature. Yesterday afternoon on the beautiful Gulf of Mexico, Ted and I were treated to a more than three-hour performance by the best she had to offer. We were fishing and happily catching lots of different “things” from the Gulf. I’ve always said the best part of fishing the Gulf is not knowing what might be on the end of that line when you feel a strong tug, work the catch, and finally see it break water. It could be a beautiful silver fish, some with bright colors glowing in the sun.

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