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Looking out my Backdoor: Coming Home

 

October 11, 2018



Being sick gives new meaning to the much overworked cliché, “There is no place like home.” Home to warm sunshine. Home to my own bed. Home.

The rainy season is nearing the end. The “boys” tell me that while I was shivering up north, down here, 40 days and 40 nights, storms of Biblical proportions dumped rain and wreaked havoc. I feel like I have been away a very long time.

All I cared about was my own bed. My house still had a roof. If it floated away with me in it, so be it. Being home this soon had not been my intention. I had scheduled an interlude on the coast.

From Billi...



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