The cottage

I remember the spring of 2017. Gari and I were shacked up in a hut/motel.

Well, it wasn’t something that we necessarily planned. It sure as hell wasn’t advertised the way we both expected. I remember the day before she arrived, I walked into the place and was so thankful she needed a place to crash. I could’ve not done it alone. The purple-grape-vine-covered studio will always hold a special place in my heart. We were both lost and we got to press the pause button and enjoy it. We made our place a home, well, it was mainly her. We had clouds of smoke fill up the space around us, lots of deep talks, laughs and run-ins with the Bills. On our last day there, a sand storm hit, it was the end of that small world we created. I miss her. A lot.

Today, I checked into a cozy cottage by some rich elderly lady’s home. She has the second biggest property out here. The land is filled with lush gardens, a tree house and a place to ride horses. It’s a dream.

I forced MK to dust what the maid couldn’t. Had he seen the studio Gari and I were in, he’d laugh in my face. Some things are better left unsaid.

I guess I’m just a little sad that Gari isn’t on the other end of the room knitting. It’s just me now.

I’m developing a little wellness plan while I’m here. Eat, pray, love type of stuff. I plan to write, read and visit the beach a lot. Besides my blog and a few minutes of social media, I won’t hesitate much to check the net. I need a break from it all.

Cheers! To another self-discovery adventure in a tiny place.

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