It’s been too long. This is where Kathleen and I ate our first several dozen meals after the move last September. Breakfasts. Lunches. Dinners (or as they say here in middle Tennessee: Suppers). We would sit sometimes for an hour without a word. Just watching the herd. Listening to the symphony of the frogs at night. The birds. The crickets. Smelling the roses. Without alternative. Locked up in the house over a seemingly endless winter, buried in work and warmth, the roses were fewer and further between. And easy to ignore. I often looked at it as a good thing because I was getting so much work done. Not bothered by those smelly old roses. But my spirit suffered. Read More→