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"I do believe in an everyday sort of magic...the inexplicable connectedness we sometimes experience with places, people, works of art and the like; the eerie appropriateness of moments of synchronicity; the whispered voice, the hidden presence, when we think we're alone." Charles de Lint

Monday, October 19, 2026

Home

No matter how wonderful a trip is...and this was a good one....there's no place home. And this is what home looked like this afternoon.




Speaking of home.....one afternoon while Paul, Bob and I were out and about we drove into our old neighborhood. Paul and I lived in the servants quarters of a large home in Belle Meade....a wealthy and somewhat ostentatious suburb of Nashville. We had no reference point for where this apartment was located until the day we arrived.

Mary and Martha...the two elderly sisters who lived in the home were progressive and down to earth women committed to renting their small apartment to divinity students. We paid $150 a month for a fully furnished apartment accessed by the small spiral staircase off the kitchen. 

I still remember driving up this driveway seeing for the first time where we would call home for the next six years. Paul and I were in our little Dodge Colt...and my mom and brother were behind us in the farm pick-up truck with all our belongings strapped in. Home is where the heart is....and for a little while this stately Bell Meade house was our home.

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