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I’m climbing out of jet lag from my trip to Worcester, MA.  Got back Friday and have been searching for brain cells while enjoying the cloudy, rainy weather.  It was raining when I flew out of Boston, so you can thank me for bringing the moisture back home in my suitcase. You’re welcome.

I like Worcester a lot, despite having had every person I told my destination look askance. “Worcester!?”  It’s not as impressive architecturally as Boston, but it has a style of its own, with many big frame houses and lots of greenery.  I loved their art museum, which has an impressive collection that includes paintings by Sargent, Monet, and El Greco, and a twelfth-century Chapter House brought over from France, stone by stone, reassembled inside the museum. (Services therein conducted on Sundays.) The Tower Hill Botanic Garden in nearby Boylston was pure pleasure, from the walk through the woods (where we came upon Pan!) to the folly perched above a path, to the marshland pond where birds could be watched from a rustic gazebo. It provided time out of time, and when did you last find that?

I had a lovely visit with my son and his girlfriend, a gifted chef who cooked the most wonderful gluten-free and vegan food. Their two tiny dogs amused me and kept me from pining for my two dachshunds.  It was a restful, relaxing vacation during which I read ebooks and watched vintage X-Files episodes and slept. (And we went to see “The Conjuring”, which is a pretty decent ghost story.)

Now I’m back and it’s time to return to the issues at hand: finishing A Signal Shown, Book Two of the Wisdom Court Books; and finding nooks and crannies for the belongings of our daughter and her two kiddos, who have moved into Victoria Turtleshell along with their two cats. Our little ark is full: of laughter, tears, books, hope, good intentions, and fur.

It’s nearly August and I’m filled with energy and plans.  The next adventure has begun. Cheers!

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