I am so going to blog about you.
Actually, I'm not.
I'm going to blog about strawberries, and how giant, red, sweet, perfect, succulent ones should be in abundant supply at all times.
And I'm also going to blog about good beds and vacation house kitchens that are well-stocked and porcelain bathtubs in spacious, wood-floored bathrooms.
And people who open up their home with gracious hospitality and an attitude of "well, why wouldn't we?"--even though they had never met me.
And old, weathered men who burst with excitement to show me the nesting peregrines with a spotting scope and go on and on about "breathing" season.
And seagulls that let me walk right up to them.
And friends who make long drives, bearing healing balm and laughter.
And other friends who take off work early to buy me dinner and presents and make me wish I lived closer.
And old movie houses with seats that are beaten down by decades of use.
And tractor pulls and purple flowers that are everywhere but no one knows what they're called and windchimes and competitive joke-telling and handmade birthday cards.
And having perfect company and a supportive witness as I gingerly stepped from one decade into the next.
And feeling, therefore, so rich.
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