I just got back from the Pocono’s (no I didn’t pick my nose) and am off to Cali for a few weeks. My family has a place in the mountains of Northern California that I have visited since I was born and it feels like home to me. I have a lot of friends that I met as a young child who return every summer, now with their own children, and I am looking forward to seeing them again. There is a small river that runs through the development and my kids will have a ball splashing in it, catching crawdads and building sandcastles.
They say you can never go home, but this place seems to be the exception. It never changes. My dad calls it a trailer park, but it really isn’t. Towering Redwoods, Douglas Firs, the dank and verdant smell of a river valley close by the Pacific Ocean; all contribute to a sensory experience that is overwhelmingly welcoming.
I will be a little silent, dial up is my only option, but don’t take it personally. I’ll return fresh, philosophical and less frenetic.
Peace!
Spike
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2 comments:
You rejecting me too? What a month! How bout all the shit here comes up in Spanish! So odd!
Umm so, what to do after 7 p.m. when all the lights go out and people are in bed... blog? I need internet porn, what are those sights you know again? Not the one's that have all the poop in it though, that's your fetish.
disclaimer
*** the previous comment were only written to be funny. Spike Fremont does not have that fetish...or at least has never admitted it to me.
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