Spring Cleaning

“Where were you again?” “We were in the Upper Luberon. Where it becomes the Alpes de Haute Provence.” “And what did you do there exactly?”… “Rrrrien.” With a rolled ‘r’ for effect. 

Nothing. We did nothing. Or next to it. Because I do count a good deal cooking and reading, walking and looking. A lot of looking. Kind of like spring cleaning for the mind. That seeing without the machine whirring behind it.

So I don’t have dramatic stories to tell because I wasn’t spinning them. If anything I was unspooling the thread. Leaving it like a trail behind me. Step back, step back, gently, quietly.

Did we have a wonderful time? We did. And did the puppers? They did too.

More soon once I organize my click-clacks but for now, why don’t you take a seat on the moss covered bench in the clearing of a forest?

It will do you good, I promise.

Good to go, good to be Home.