Friday, June 26, 2015
Today I am grateful for veranda travel. Okay, I know I’m late today. My own husband just “reminded” me that I hadn’t yet posted. Geeze, the pressure. Blame the “Y” and water aerobics; or the after-class breakfast; or the lunch right after that; or the fixed umbrella we did when I got home; or. . .
Okay, blame Greg Iles! I can’t put his book, “The Bone Tree” down. I’m not cleaning one thing or going anywhere until I finish this missive! I swear!
It’s a really good thing that from the reading perch on my exotic veranda I can see the gargoyles of Paris. And while the birds are chirping, I can picture the Aegean Sea lapping at the shore, the Greek Islands visible in the distance. And when the hummingbird flutters a foot in front of my face, gathering slurps of dinner from my hanging fuchsia plant, I can imagine I am sitting on my palatial veranda in Italy, overlooking the Mediterranean. As I think about the fish I hope to make for supper, I can search the horizon for John to buzz up in the boat from his long fishing excursion on the lake in Vermont, where we are staying for three months.
Greg’s book might be taking me to the deep-south, but when I’m reading on my veranda I am actually traveling far and wide.