Some things that have been on my mind lately, as things that I can’t escape.
On a Wednesday whim, a trip to celebrate Big Sur’s return to the wider world.
Perhaps a little emotionally battered and bruised in the wake of events in Charlottesville.
The first time I met Egon a tree had fallen across the dirt road leading to our house. My then-coworker-and-eventual-husband and I had taken the financially daring plunge of renting a place on a couple of acres in semi-rural Atascadero – me because I was tired of neighbors, him because he wanted a dog. The house was a low-slung ranch style with yellow wood siding and a big stone fireplace, a chipped linoleum kitchen floor, cheap...