Louisiana High

I’m back home again and even though I’ve been hard at work, I feel as if I’ve had a vacation. I’ve spent five days sitting on a porch swing with a notebook propped on my lap, gazing at a sun-sparkled lake, listening to wild geese and bullfrogs, and sleeping late. And this is a job?

Seriously, I came home with two notebooks filled—I won’t know the real page count until I get it all typed up since I write in longhand when I’m up at the lake. But I feel very, very good about how much I managed to accomplish. And I even got the lake house’s dining room painted!

There was a time I found the drive up there a chore, but I discovered I’ve come to enjoy even that part of the experience. There’s something liberating about barreling down the freeway in my little yellow bug (technically it’s Danielle’s little yellow bug, but she’s gone for the summer and I still haven’t replaced my car), letting my thoughts wander where they will and belting out “Country Roads” with John Denver. Although there’s a certain twist of irony to being stuck in traffic on the Bonnet Carre spillway and listening to Rocky Mountain High while staring out at a Louisiana swamp.