Familiar Ground

“Every traveler has a home of his own, and he learns to appreciate it the more from his wandering.”

― Charles Dickens

Awoke after all this time to this view, to the place where it all began with P.

She's in the kitchen cooking feverishly for a birthday dinner tonight, padding around in pretty bare feet and wrapped in an apron. I'm trying to get a few things out the door for work after a lengthy stay in a dentist's chair this morning. But for that, I would've made the Kiwanis meeting and gotten to spend some time with people I've known for decades.

The dental hygienist assigned to scrape my choppers just came to that practice from my old dentist's office--she's been striking up one-way conversations with me between spits for at least the last 25 years. She told me her old boss is sick now with Parkinson's, and lost his wife earlier this year.

Time passes.

Back to work. Maybe I'll have more to say tomorrow.