Maybe home – where I really belong – is not anywhere I’ve already been. Maybe it’s just a little further on, somewhere over the rainbow. And maybe that’s not wrong.
Good Neighbors: Be Them, Have Them
On the heels of a spectacular neighborhood party on the block last night, I started to think about the qualities that make and have made
Goodbye, Good Boy
Norman was a good boy whose time came last month. I stumbled across this piece (Norman, My Tie That Binds) this morning. I had pushed
The Baby, the Prostitute, and Me: My New Idea of Living
“Certainly, travel is more than seeing of sights: it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the idea of living.” – American historian Miriam Beard
San Franciso, Again
Sometimes you have to go back to go forward. Tim Cahill “The San Francisco ferry’s just like the US mail,” says the man watching us
Goodbye Jake, Goodbye Oak, Goodbye Home
I’m already feeling the irrevocable loss of this place. Mourning, because I’m making peace with the thought that we’ll never come back. We’ve rehomed the horses (all but Chula – I can’t quite part with her yet), the 4-wheelers, and tractor. The place will be swarming with folks at Saturday’s barn sale enthusiastically giving us pennies on the dollar, helping us deconstruct our life here.