Today the wind is blowing the sleet sideways. Frozen slush is pelting against my window and I’m thankful to be inside a warm home. My bones hurt. More than ever, I dream of our winter home-to-be in Spain.
This July was a whirlwind of travel throughout some of the loveliest sights that England has to offer. I highly recommend any of them for the curious traveler.
This month I’m not writing about a place I have travelled to, rather a different kind of journey. For the past 4+ I have been writing a memoir of my early life. I’m not writing it because I am famous or a narcissist as I’m neither of those. Why then? Because those years shape us by creating our patterns of thinking which in turn affects our behaviour and each year, adds a layer.