Today is the Feast of Easter. Viriditas or, The Greening. We just returned from a visit to see our grandchildren and son, who live 800 miles away. We soaked up their dear presence. We were away for only seven days, wherein I looked at my writing only once or twice, their being the Great Distraction that warrants my attention. So when I returned to my writing hut for a morning of work, I was mortified that I couldn’t recall which folder held one of my computer files. I finally found it, but still… Lesson learned. And it is this: since embarking on this writing life (read Voyage) in January ’15, I have taken very few days off. Even on official “vacation,” I worked mornings, to experience how a different setting might feed the work. And it does. (How could it not? Pecking away, with the Pacific Ocean pounding before you? and nothing but sand in between?) A bit trickier when conversations and concerns pull, like a grandchild on your pant leg. “NeNe, NeNe, NeNe…” So, no contest. Nor a problem. It’s like rising in the middle of the night to comfort a child. You simply do it, for love. Or, don’t do it; in this case, work.