When Tim left, I had plans for all sorts of activities. I did a few of them. I also did others that weren't planned. I killed the time. I've been trying to distract myself from the "I'm not in Paris--woe is me" thoughts that ran through my head every time I heard from my conscientious... Continue Reading →
Tim leaves for Paris on Wednesday. He's got his bags packed already, having assembled all the appropriate clothes and accessories this weekend. This is the Mens Trip, a present Tim's father gave to himself on the occasion of his something-th birthday. All the men are going, eight of them, one short of a Fellowship, two... Continue Reading →
Every day since I moved here, I have had reason to say "I love this place." The phrase is usually accompanied by a stunned shake of the head, or preceded by a gasp of joy, or, most often, murmured while I'm taking a picture of yet another gorgeous blossom that happens to be growing on... Continue Reading →
She answered the door with a skeptical look, shushing the dog. I was sure I'd annoyed her, sure I'd picked the wrong day to approach a reclusive stranger. When I told her her farm's website had indicated that Fridays were the best days to drop by, she dropped her guard a little. I said I'd... Continue Reading →
As of Friday, May 30, our oldest offspring has come out to Portland to live. For the time being (emphasis his), he will be staying with us until he gets his feet on the ground. He comes our way after living on his own for six years in Lansing, Michigan, where he attended Michigan State... Continue Reading →
Meg Currell 