It’s been too long. But sometimes life gets in the way of talking. Or talking gets in the way of writing. Or something like that. But I haven’t lost my ability to jot some thoughts down and we still have Internet access, so more posts should be more morer. Got it? Good.
We’re still in the beautiful Bay area, but we haven’t figured it out yet. Nine months or so into this journey we still feel like foreigners in a land that shouldn’t be such a mystery. Every move, every new place, every relocation brings a host of newness and rebuilding. You’ve got to discover your places, your stride. And, unfortunately, you always start from zero.
But zero is where you start. It’s not where you end up. And in the last couple weeks Michelle and I have found some things that we can call ours. We shot up to the Russian River Valley, went
wine tasting, bike riding, and stayed at an Inn. The innkeepers were old hippies that quite likely hung out with my dad in the 60’s. It felt a little like home. Or a home that we can escape too.
Later in the week we went to Santa Cruz. Did you know that they farm on the coast there? I mean right on the coast. U-pick strawberries. Organic. With waves crashing a 1000 yards away. We didn’t have to be asked twice. The wind blew, our hands dug in, and let’s just say we bought about 2.5 lbs, but we picked about 4 lbs. Mystery? I think you can solve it.
So hey, I think I’m getting my writing groove back. Time keeps marching on and anyone who knows me, knows that I can’t shut up. There’s too much life to talk about. So my mouth (and fingers) will keep moving. Keep talking. Sometimes it just takes awhile for my thoughts to reach the people that matter.
