Steve and I are now back home from our trip to Maryland to be with Steve’s mother at the end of her blessedly short stay in the Dove House hospice in Carroll County, and to be with family during the subsequent visitation, funeral, and wake.
We had rushed on the way down — fourteen hours straight on high-speed roads, from Maine to Maryland — and made the decision to go easy on ourselves, coming home. As a distraction, and also to insure that we broke the drive into reasonable pieces, we charted a route via Barnes and Nobles, which means that there are signed copies of some of our books at B&N stores in Woodholme Center in Pikesville, The Avenue in White Marsh, Camp Hill, Wilkes-Barre, Binghamton/Vestal, Saratoga Springs, and Augusta.
For some reason, I have several hundred emails to cope with across my various inboxes; if yours is one, I appreciate your patience as I slowly get back up to speed.
. . .I think that’s all I’ve got at the moment.
The title of today’s blog post is brought to you by Traffic: The Low Spark of High-Heeled Boys. Here’s your link.by