I do not know what more to say than has already been said. I continue to hold to the belief that terrorism more attracts the wrath of the people you are attacking than accomplishes anything, and I shall continue to hold to that belief.
This blog’s masthead shall display the French flag for one week as a tribute and a reminder….
“…For my part, I travel not to go anywhere, but to go. I travel for travel’s sake. The great affair is to move; to feel the needs and hitches of our life more nearly; to come down off this feather-bed of civilisation, and find the globe granite underfoot and strewn with cutting flints….”
Robert Louis Stevenson, Travels with a Donkey in the Cévennes (1879)
Welcome to the South of France! I’m actually farther south than Robert Louis Stevenson got on his hiking trip, a self-imposed journey that resulted in his second full-length book. And, really, I’m not even in France; this region, Flux sur Mer, does a good stand-in job for rural coastal France, though, and fits in somewhat with the theme of this month’s Uber collection, “Rustic.”
Stevenson was a traveler partly by inclination, but also partly for reasons of necessity; he suffered from wretched health for most of his life (though current conclusions are that it wasn’t tuberculosis, as often suggested), and made many journeys in search of a climate that would agree with his constitution. This journey, however, was not one of those. Rather, he was in part looking for material for a book, but also to forget about the married American woman, Fanny Osbourne, who he would eventually marry himself. She and her son would end up following Stevenson in his travels, to America, and eventually to the place Stevenson settled and died in, Samoa; however, this was years in the future from 1878.
My travel plans were nowhere near as ambitious as Stevenson’s. This was a morning visit to a French country town, and I dressed appropriately for it: a soft linen dress, sandals, a big floppy hat and a colorful bag.
Last-minute discovery: I stuck my hand through the top of the bag (sigh). I want to show this lovely accessory to you, though, and here it is.
A stop for breakfast at a patisserie:
and I was ready to explore the sim. (I leave this as an exercise for the reader; just follow the SLurl.)
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The details:
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My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Sister Gatling Gun of Love and Mercy.
My Johari window -- visit and offer your ideas on my personality
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