Routine

Ah. . . It is good to be back. There is a specific comfort in the familiarities of home. The hills, horses, cows, dispersed population, red oak trees, and familiar sights all provide a parental security like no other. Only the heat and humidity accompanied us on this trip.

I still feel somewhat unsettled for being out of my routine and am trying to reorient myself to home. As much as I like to travel, I need routine to keep me grounded. And this "vacation” was filled with doctor visits and seminars which did not provide much to settling of soul. I didn't read as much as I would have liked. I'm a little over a third complete of John Adams, having almost 400 pages to read. Babe said that my ideal of a vacation would be to put me on a deserted island with a book and a pot of coffee. Closer to the truth would be put me in some remote cabin with a book and a pot of coffee. Too much stimuli frazzles my nerves. I believe that I would as soon be in a cabin in the woods as on the beaches of HI.

The very spot where grew the bread
That formed my bones, I see.
How strange, old field, on thee I tread
And feel I’m part of thee!

A. Lincoln
September 6, 1846