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Dear Jam

3 Apr

Dear Jam,

I have become a little anchorless since you left yesterday.  Upon returning home, I wasn’t sure what to do with myself, so after making my frittata (with my window mint), I took “A Year in Provence” and my crazy creek down to Tom Lee Park to enjoy the beautiful weather.  When I got down there, I was greeted by one of the biggest barges I have seen yet on the Mississippi and more kite flyers than than I have ever seen all in one place.  The wind was incredibly strong.  I immediately saw two kites snap off their string and glide into the Mississippi River.  It felt a bit like that strong wind spell we had at the beach last summer.

I plopped down and began reading about Peter Mayle’s attempts to renovate his provencial home.  Dreams of our upcoming trip, teamed with dreams of Provence, teamed with dreams of renovating a country home, teamed with my recent conversation with Cindy had my mind eager with daydreams.  They were all lined up, waiting to be thought through, planned, assessed for their possibility, and nourished.  So I went about thinking through each one of them, fitting each one into a specific day in our future, while returning to hear about Mayle’s trip to the butcher or his first heavy snowfall in Provence.  As you can imagine, the steady pulsing of my thoughts was quite cathartic.  Not only was the sun shining and the wind blowing, but my spirits were lifted as I sifted through all my new ideas.  I felt like I was at the beach – typically the sole place my mind is able to wander so erratically.  But no, I was just a walk away from our waterfront property, in a park filled with an eclectic, diverse bunch of Memphians, reading a book and getting tanned, realizing that I was amidst something I had once daydreamed.

Wish you were here.