It was late in the day and I had just given myself permission not to do an evening meditation when Three knocked at my door.
She asked if we could do a meditation together.
After a few days on Grand Cayman, I was starting to get a feel for the place. It was very civilized, but it felt a bit forced. I’d seen only one other interracial couple since we’d been there. Portraits of the Queen and Prince Charles hung at the airport. I’d made a joke about tea time one day only to have one of the Chaplain’s friends casually mention meeting someone for tea the next day.
This past spring, I posted about our forlorn backyard. The space was characterized by packed dirt and scattered scrap metal. It was well into spring, I thought. I was sure that was as good as it got.
Our family loves Greek mythology. We have lots of kids’ versions of the stories floating around the house, but until recently, I’d never read a Greek myth written for adults.
Here are two of my favorite Greek mythology books, one for kids, and one for adults, and why I chose them.
At the end of my last post about our Cayman Islands trip, we’d just been left hanging by our in-country contact and had almost two hours to burn until we’d be able to do the cave tour we had planned for the morning. I was feeling hopeful that we’d find something interesting to do while we waited.
Sure enough, right down the road was the entrance to Mastic Trail.
