|The building materials in France look fine, last a long time.|
|Who's your daddy?|
I've come to some distinct conclusions about travel, something I've ever much liked. I still don't like the travel. I do like the destinations, especially when they are like Northern Ireland and Southern France. The big cities are great for 24 hours. Not a minute longer for my taste. Far too much stress and hassle.
The people all over Europe--the ones we've met--are divine. We were struggling through the Paris Metro yesterday and several times, Frenchmen simply nudged Sonya aside, picked up her bags, smiled and lugged them up the steep steps for her without a word. Such a sweet gesture. Neither of us knew what to say beyond "merci," which didn't seem enough.
|Can I eat these? Prob-ly not.|
I will never pack big again, no matter what I'm told. Small is good. Small is excellent when you're lugging those damn bags through big crowds or trying to squeeze onto a subway or a bus. I have not worn half the clothes I brought, nor will I. I'm leaving half this crap at my son's house, so when I return, I won't have to bring much at all.
I will remember to take time for myself on a daily or every-other-day basis. Sonya and I get testy with each other because we both live alone and we're living together right now with people we're not married to or romantically involved with. Friction is inevitable and I think we both know that. Today's solitude has been a godsend.
I'm going for another walk. I think it could help my appetite and maybe when Sonya gets back, I can eat with her.
|Freshly plowed fall field.|
|This is our charming living room.|
|Do goats really climb trees. Not so much.|