No matter where you go
It’s Jazz Fest time, usually my favorite time of the year, and I’m a bit crabby or disinterested or both. Hard to say. My usual friendships feel abrasive, the crowds at Jazz Fest too excessive, and yet I’m humbled by what really pleases me these days. I’m ready to set up the family pool in the backyard and have afternoons of just hanging, chilling, and being contained in our postage stamp of a yard. But…