At home where I belong
The hibiscus took on leaves while I was gone. I’d been home for two days before I noticed. When I left, the season was trying to change, but couldn’t quite get over the hump. Now, the lambs and lions have found other things to do and I’m back where the blossoms have purpose and the sky is the perfect shade of blue.
My trip to Monte Carlo sat somewhere between difficult and awful. The excess outweighed the opulence again and even a real attempt at keeping my head in the right place didn’t work. I had four hours sleep Wednesday night, got out of bed, took a shower, and didn’t climb into a bed again until I was at home Friday night. Somewhere in there was 20 hours of traveling from Monte Carlo, to Nice, to New York, to Cincinnati, and then home.
Thanks in part to a nice wedding full of old friends yesterday, I have seen a lot of people in the last couple of days. It’s hard to explain to people how going to Monte Carlo is not fun. Sometimes I don’t even get it myself.
I’m in for a couple days of soul-searching. I am as curious as anybody where that search will lead.
When we lived in Germany, I felt the same way when we’d have regional meetings in Paris. I found myself saying “I think I’ll just go to the session in Frankfurt . . . I can drive and be home by dinner . . .” People never understood why I didn’t want to go to Paris. Again.
Soul searching for someone like yourself will lead to dark places, Otis…keep it light and simple. Go serve soup at a homeless shelter and enjoy what you have.
Also, remember that your wife is getting in shape for herself and also for you…that in itself is something to smile about.
I said, Holla at your boy!