Someone wrote in a comment last week that she’d always harbored romantic visions of Cornwall, and I wrote back (somewhere in this sprawling mess I call a blog) that it’s an easy place to romanticize, even though I’m something of an anti-romantic.
And then on Sunday morning I woke to the sound of a cat upchucking on the floor and thought, What could be more romantic than my life?
Whoever it was who wrote that comment, I apologize for not remembering and so not being able to find it and link to your blog. It never crossed my mind to post anything about it until the cat threw up this morning, and the comments, much as I love them, are threatening to overwhelm me, so going back and checking them all? Ack. Not possible.
In the meantime, think of romantic Cornwall and the perfect life Wild Thing and I live here.
P.S.: It’s raining.