We found a cafe deep in the woods, and they served lattes and lox, cinnamon buns and quesadillas.
There was vintage furniture and turquoise pottery, it was clean and it was beautiful.
We lounged under the awning and took our time eating. The owner kissed Olive’s cheek and I kind of wanted to stay there forever.
Things are percolating here, betwixt the cavernous confines of my mind.
Something about being with my family feels like having a mirror held up before you, close enough to see all your wrinkles, your myriad flaws and errant hairs.
It’s heartbreaking. It’s inspiring.
I always leave feeling like I’ve been scrubbed clean, like I’ve got work to do.
After escaping floods and rising waters, taking boats and planes and enduring drives of more than 16 hours for some of them, my mom and all of my siblings are here.
Together! On an island!
This picture is taken from the balcony of the main house. It’s a lot more…rustic… than I had anticipated, but do you see that sweet little cabin bottom right? That’s our cabin, Adam, Olive and I.
It may not have heat or electricity or insulation or heat or heat, but that view?
That view! I mean it’s ok I guess.
This province I live in, seriously. Stop it.
Would you look at that?