Yes, I could have skipped house cleaning. I understand that most people don’t vacuum before going overseas. But the idea is to create a welcoming place for the return, no? Then too, White Flower Farm, the flower place that I turn to in February in anticipation of spring, sent a box of perennials to apologise for much confusion this year with my order. They arrive this morning. And I already have nasturtium to transplant. And weeds to pull. Rains cause weed proliferation like you wouldn’t believe.
We do some spot cleaning outside as well. Ed picks up the fallen limbs after yesterday’s storms.
The last step is throwing everything into a suitcase and hoping that it’ll close.
It does.
So, a note as to where we’re heading. Our trip has three parts to it. The first, by far the longest, is having me do something I have never done in my life since childhood. I am returning to a place I loved – Sorede. If you don’t remember, or hadn’t read, it’s in southern France: just at the border with Spain. To the south and west are the Pyrenees, to the east the sea. After a year of such crazy hours and momentous change, I am so very happy that for once, I opted for stability. Predictability. Quiet.
After, well, we’ll get a little more adventurous. We’ve packed our gear. We’re ready. I think.
The last, third snippet is a bit of an unknown. This itself is new for me. I typically like to know, plan, evaluate significantly in advance. Not this time. We'll see what evolves.
And so we’re off. Actually, as I write this, we are already somewhat into the trip. I'm writing this from Detroit, waiting for our flight to Amsterdam. Tomorrow afternoon, if we make our ridiculously tight connection, we should land in Barcelona. Always know that I do my best to get on line daily. I nearly never fail. But sometimes it just cannot be.
Off we go. 'Bye Isis. Ed misses you already. Travel makes you understand how important are those whom we leave behind.
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