Finding Home

Storytelling. This past week I spent much of my time sitting in a covered porch open to and overlooking a small harbor. I also took advantage of the white lounge chair sprawled out on the dock below us. Our neighbors were a lobstering family, and so every day they repaired their traps, hauled them out, and then hauled them back in. Every day I wrote a letter from the porch. I didn’t write a single word for Quill Point, Vinehart Farm’s sequel. And I used no WIFI, as there was no service–no cell service either.

I liked the calm so much that I’ve decided to pursue and set the stage for it at home. I’ll figure out how to turn WIFI off on Sundays and nights after 9 PM. Less electromagnetic traffic, and more direct communication, like conversing and speaking on our landline. I hope to establish “no work Sundays” like I had growing up. We’d play softball, since we had enough family members to make two teams. Haying was the only activity that could break our day of rest, because, as my dad said, if you were a farmer and God gave you good weather, you didn’t have to be stupid about it.

I won’t see the ocean until Columbus day, my next scheduled trip. But that’s okay–I’m recharged and ready to return to the library tomorrow. Before I sign off, here’s a link to Amazon to get the print cover of Vinehart Farm. It’s truly out in the world! Thanks in advance for all your support, and please, please, leave reviews and feedback. My aunt Cecile finished it first and she thought it was my best effort ever. That made my stomach and my heart feel mighty good.

Here’s a photo of what I saw every day (not mine as I don’t have them downloaded yet, but very close). I’ll post more throughout the summer. Any harbors in your future?

Check back this Saturday for another installment of Finding Home.




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I've been to Barcelona three times and I'm ready to return!

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Finding Home


Finding Home

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