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It wasn’t my last time back. That day is far off, if ever. But it’s safe to say it was my best time going back to a past I keep wanting to do over in so many little ways.
I’m not different, but closer to it than ever before. These word conservation efforts are adding to my life in unforeseen dimensions.
So there was vacuuming and spectacular views and a wide-open house-to-be and babies that reached out for me and just enough time for everything I wanted to do. Not as much baking, far more sobriety, moments that fulfilled long-held hopes and created the possibility of new ones.
Sweet potato salad got made, along with cheddar biscuits and cappuccino cheesecakes. Kale got massaged; my feet did not.
Came back with a sunburn and a planned return. Headed north and east for a night that felt like getting wildly drunk.
Better though, because the sensory overload resulted from having so much to take in, instead of from an impaired ability to do so.
exuberaunt 