Well, okay, Letters from Chautauqua. But I love it here. I haven’t updated as much because, well, nothing happens in paradise, does it? That’s rather the definition of paradise: always the same loveliness.
But tomorrow is the trip home, and to always the same… unloveliness? No, that’s not what I mean. But there will be two cats, and two dogs (we get to take care of Beatrix the Chihuahua for Peter till his return) and whatever stuff else gets thrown our way. So, the usual usual.
No notes from the road, probably.
white pebble 