I’m surrounded by Nora Roberts books in Maui. Not my thing really.
My son is exhausted. Sleeping the sleep of a 5 year old who just had a giant (bigger than him) sea turtle come up and wave at him. We got it on film. My had shaking as I thought for a moment, um, Is this okay?
You see, I’m from Georgia originally and I was schooled at a young age about snapping turtles.
Old myths die hard.
I watch him sleep. Sand stuck to the side of his head. In ever crevice really. Slowly defenestrating from his body to the bad jungle print comforter below. We won’t appreciate that later tonight.
I scour the bookshelf for something other than Nora. I brought tons of books with me. Sadly, the are all cerebral. Brain books. Learning books. I’m seeking trash.
something like Heinlein or Belknap Long.
Instead, I find a well worn book. Â No cover. Â Just a few words per page.
So often, that which we are
which we wish
(I think written by Jovanovich)
Nice. Â A book in Maui that doesn’t have a women with a ripped bodice on the cover… and yet the sentiment, the writing, holds exactly that same image.
Love it here.