Pin It The familiar squeal of the latch and the well-known squeak of hinges as the door swung open was a welcome to the house of the Monks - a place I’d felt a kinship to now for several years. I stepped over the threshold to the friendly chorus of Tanner’s screaming my name in greeting as he launched himself across the kitchen.
How could you not want to visit? This alone was worth the four hours it took just to get here…my place of refuge from the life I live northward.
How I’d missed being here. My summer had ended down here far too soon, and already the heat was topping 85 degrees in October.
Upon my arrival I was ushered into the ‘villa’—as it was affectionately christened; an apartment built on the backside of the garage for just such occasions and visitors.
Will I have photos to share of this trip?
Will I be on the lookout?
Will I be disappointed if I don’t get any?
Not at all.
I aim to enjoy this journey, enjoy it I will…after all; I only have a brief time before I must traverse the roads northward once-again to reality and life.
So enjoy it I will…