“France knew me when my heart was young and gay, welcomed me as a bride, forgave me my trespasses, and shared the keys to knowing what is good in life. Now older, if not wiser, I still look to France as the beacon of all that is civilized.”
“I grew in confidence with the understanding of what can happen in the earth. I started knowing things without learning them, developing skill, allowing delight at success, and, along the way, discovering joy. Isn’t that what love is?”
When my son Aaron hands the baby to me, I feel something powerful—humility . . . a thankfulness that Aaron and Lauren have been granted a healthy child, that the road ahead will be negotiated with blessedly normal challenges. The utter banality is the miracle.
Tomorrow, a long-time friend from college is coming to visit. I'm trying hard not to have a fit. You know, one of those fits about how my house isn't presentable, my life isn't presentable, and I should never let anyone come over.
Clovelly is one of only three privately owned villages in England. The quaint difficulty of getting around has been preserved, which ensures that only people who value the glory of the historical will dwell and stay.