…from a recent trip to Clarkston, Michigan. When I lived in Michigan, I never appreciated the small towns with their 1920’s and 1930’s buildings and the old, rustic houses on wide, tree-lined streets and avenues. I drove to Clarkston alone and really enjoyed barreling down the highway in my mother’s giant car with the radio blasting. I almost felt like a teenager again. You have to remember that, in England, the highways are small and winding and they are full of traffic and so there is no fast lane or wide open highways in my part of the country.
I’m leaving Michigan tomorrow evening. I ease the guilt and sadness of saying goodbye to my friends and family by making plans for the next time I come home for a visit. There’s much to look forward to. And then I point myself in the other direction and prepare myself for my other family — my other friends — and a nice cuppa tea and a sit-down when I get home.