“Come back to France with me.”
That’s what she said, within 10 minutes when we met.
I was so delighted by her spontaneity, my kindred soul. Boldness has magic and power, as Goethe said. But in my mind, I thought. Yes. Sure! I can just drop everything and fly on KLM and land in Charles De Gaulle, and go spend a merry 2 weeks in France. Oh, ride the train at Gare du Nord!
Eat croissant every morning! Go around Paris with a master photographer! Gare du Nord to London’s St. Pancreas – oh, a person could ride that ride over and over again and never get over the splendor of the grand train stations of Europe.
But work beckons. Instead, I said, “Corey. Come to San Francisco, for dinner. Can you? Will you?” as she and I crossed the small street, party hopping to go from the party at Gathering to the party at the Co-op…from one crowd to another.
It took me 2 hours to make it out of the beast of the city where I live for now. Finally making it on to I-5, towards SACRAMENTO, the key to my future, I saw nothing but corn-fields or miles and miles, where the speed limit was 70. The moon was so bright.
Until coming upon to this little town, called Willows. One main street. One little church.
Just one of those really endearing little towns in America that I love.
Christmas. Friends, neighbors, cousins, fans, family…
Meeting Corey again.
Her family…her mom…Mrs. Amaro…suddenly came out of no where, with such a sense of humor, offered a bed for the sojourner to stay for the night…”Corey told me you’re driving back, we have a bed for you?”
It is magic.
That someone would blog everyday, faithfully, for 7+years, and that her readers would read her writing and spirit everyday, thousands of readers everyday….
211 W Sycamore Street
Willows, CA, 95988