I swear she was my friend.
I mean, she wouldn’t lead me to some unknown neighborhood with vague claims of a hotel just for a laugh, right? Perhaps twenty years of friendship with me had driven her off the deep end…..
Because clearly there was no hotel here. Did she think there was one tucked in among the slightly sketchy 1970s houses? Oh, an Airbnb, she clarifies. Now I know we’ll be staying in someone’s basement where body parts are hidden in a corner freezer….
Continue reading “My Tiny House Adventure”
Eucharisteo: to be grateful, to feel thankful, to give thanks
I don’t know about you, but most days, I don’t feel all that thankful. Sometimes I simply don’t want to feel thankful.
So I write them down.
And count them one by one.
Continue reading “Eucharisteo: The Art of Thankfulness #221-250”
I have always lived within earshot of train tracks.
From the slice of suburban life that I called my childhood home, to the dilapidated balcony of my younger self’s great leap into independence; from the teeny tiny Californian apartment rubbing elbows with a new husband and a new name, to the solid brick ranch nestled in the vibrant green that is Tennessee’s cloak…
…the wail of a train’s whistle has penetrated the walls of every abode-and every stage-of my life.
“Come, see where I may lead you.” Continue reading “When Wanderlust Calls”