This is my new home, close to it anyway. My new place where I go to feed my desire for nature and everything that comes with it. I'm not sure it would have worked for me to be far from water, or to not have at least a corner view of it from one of my windows.

From the time that I was very young, water and the mountains nourished my core and there was never any getting enough of them. When I swam in the lake, it was under water and my dad called me a fish. My skin became a golden brown from the sun and he called me a little Indian. These things did not offend me.

One of our homes backed up to the woods, back in the early days, and I often went up there just to sit - that place was my sanctuary. My grandma and I spent countless hours traversing the mountains on horseback. We always took a picnic lunch and stayed away for the entire day. I'd never realized it before but I must have been great company for her as she had someone to ride with. She was the one person that I know loved me.

Spending 25 years, or more, away from the place where I grew up, I'd forgotten most of it. But the memories are creeping in and they aren't all bad ones. I had a family life at one time, even though my father treated me like a sack of dirt. There were cousins and aunts and uncles, and there were grandparents. On the surface we didn't have it so bad but you didn't want to come visit our home.

So, memories of my youth come streaming in. I'm loving time with my youngest - he has grown up to be quite the wonderful young man. And I found a place for the love I felt with Conor. He makes my heart surge with pride. And then I'm a bit lonely and feeling some unsettled. It will all come together as I continue my quest to be happy no matter what else is going on.

And, of course I've been busy but sure have enjoyed your wonderful and wise comments. Thank you so much for still being here after my long absence.